


Game Theory

by elossa



Series: This Place Was A Shelter Universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Double Agents, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Infidelity, Multi, Post-Canon, Substance Abuse, THEY AREN'T ALL STRAIGHT I PROMISE, Torture, Violence, if i include ALL the ships there will be too many spoilers, so many ships so many spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:49:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 62,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7538665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elossa/pseuds/elossa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 2080. The Iron Curtain - under a different name, but a spade is a spade - has divided Europe as two warring factions come to a stalemate. Then Charles Prentiss goes missing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1A: August 10th, 2080

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Auvrea Veryr](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/314820) by Multiple. 



> CHAPTER 1A WARNING: Explicit violence
> 
> For those of you unfamiliar with the characters, this is ridiculous, based off a dead RP, but I love these characters. To those of you whose characters aren't mine and have given permission to let them be featured in this story, thank you for letting me tinker with them because honestly, I'm not going to grow out of them in the near future. If you didn't hear from me before I published this story and a character of yours is included, it's because I couldn't track you down. If your character wasn't a Lestrange and you want them removed their role can easily be cut.
> 
> P.S. In my head, the Lestranges sure as hell didn't come from England. Dagareth comes from a branch in France that migrated to Russia in the mid 1980s to avoid all of that Wizarding War chaos across the channel.
> 
> The HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I like to pretend anything beyond DH was never published.

_Yekaterinburg, Russia_

Charles became acutely aware of the knife that was on his throat.

How it had gotten there, he wasn’t entirely sure. He had been spending his night the usual way: in the tavern and having spiked Butterbeers with anyone who would listen. He entered the bar hearing about Jaelyn Sicarius’s lack of ability to conceive and how tempted Lucifer was to shack up with Lux Mazur - who was _sixteen_ years his junior - because Milli Marten was taken (like Charles would _let_ him sleep with his sister anyway) and he wasn’t stupid enough to bed the Dark Lady and be hung, drawn and quartered despite the fact that it was _pretty bloody obvious to anyone with eyes_ that Jaelyn was sleeping with Darke Kruger and was probably taking contraceptive charms as a result.

 _Sodding hell,_ being a Dark Soldier was _fucking tiring._

“What do you think, Prentiss?” Lucifer asked, eyeing the brunet. “Is the woman sterile?”

“Pregnancy is a far less effective than killing people, Lucifer,” Charles replied coolly, his eyes absent of the anger that was boiling his blood. “You need to give it a couple of months to be sure. “I’m sure that she will be with child soon enough.”

In his head, he was positively _seething. Just inseminate the woman already,_ he thought. _Not even magic can overcome that._ However, he knew that suggesting that using artificial methods or subtly dropping Darke’s name into the conversation would lead to his death, and some others. Lucifer was a reckless, violent man, and he was careless enough to disobey Dagareth’s rules. (Rule number three: No murdering your compatriots unless I gave you the order. In which case, go nuts.)

“Thanks for the advice, Prentiss,” Lucifer replied, patting Charles on the back before beckoning his brother, Sergius, to come over to the bar. “Serg! What do you think about…”

That was when he effectively tuned that conversation out; he could no longer bear it. He finished the last of his Butterbeer, paid the bartender the Sickles and Knuts he owed, and left the tavern, using the back alley to return to his place of residence for the month: a single bedroom that he _thankfully_ didn’t share with anyone else, not even Sergius ‘Thickheaded Twit’ Sicarius.

As he made his way down the dark alley, he tripped on a discarded quill. Curious, the former Hitrost fingered the feather, stroking it before feeling something hooked him in the navel and pulled him sharply inward into something. It felt like _he_ was a tornado, swirling and collapsing into himself. He screamed, the sensation momentarily ridding him of his senses.

He dropped from the sky into a pitch black room, gasping for air. The 38-year-old had never been a fan of the dark, and he could feel the sweat on his forehead forming as he cast a silent Lumos with his wand, and he came face to face with his ex-girlfriend who shrieked her head off, and he was shocked enough by the whole mess that she had time to put the knife on his neck.

Ah, so _that’s_ how he ended up in this conundrum.

“How did you find us?” she hissed.

“I didn’t,” he said, “how - just please, Dommi, let me go – “

 _“NO!”_ she yelled. The woman grabbed him by his collar, smashing him into the nearest brick wall. Red flakes landed on his cheek. “You just compromised my entire fucking family! You just ruined the chance for pureblood extremism to be completely eradicated by walking into what is their Literal Underground Headquarters – do you even know what the hell you’ve done, Charles?” She saw his nose run with blood trickling down his face, her hand gently brushing the roof of his lip to wipe it off. “You know that I cannot and will not let you go, not since you decided to join them twenty years ago.”

“You know that I would have had no choice – “

 _“Except you did!_ You had zero reason, other than insatiable power and pure cowardice, to join up their ranks and become part of the Dark Army.”

“I am on my own side,” he replied, lying smoothly. “I have my own plans, and that plan has been, for the most part, to survive. I have never hurt anyone.”

 _“_ We both know you’ve murdered people, Charles. There is no way in fucking hell I am letting you go.”

His face paled with an understanding, knowing exactly where the anger in her tone sprung from. Years old remorse chipped away at his fear, replacing it with dread and quivering fingers. He sighed. “Then don’t let me go. Punish me to your heart’s content.”

Dominique scoffed. “Do you really think that I would be so kind to oblige you of such a request? I could never punish you: not effectively. Come on, Charles. We have a long life ahead of us.”

His vision turned black and night claimed him for its own.


	2. 1B: August 10th 2080 + Flashbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May, Year 3
> 
> Durmstrang has fallen.
> 
> (Or the one where things slowly start to make sense.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPECIFIC CHAPTER WARNING: Substance abuse, character deaths (though neither are particularly explicit or gory). Also plenty of swearing, if you're a bit queasy
> 
> Some people may not enjoy flashbacks, but please read these if you can. They sort of help people orient themselves to the story, so to speak.
> 
> Much love to Manda for looking this over, and thank you to Mel (Dream Painter) for looking it over and letting me use some of Rhena's dialogue (all the way from 2012, I might add!) to be used in this chapter.

_11.00 August 10th, Year 2080: Room 22_

“Whoa, Dommi. Slow down - “

“I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of the situation. We have a _Dark Soldier_ in our _Headquarters._ I will _not_ slow down.”

“Well, Lena and I very much would like you to because you _woke us up_ on our _day off_ and you’re speaking _way too fast.”_

“Oh. I - I’m sorry Rhys.”

Lena grumbled, falling off the bed, getting up on her feet and then walking up to the door. Her hair was an absolute rat’s nest, something that made her appear more terrifying than she already was. “Merlin’s fucking tits, Dommi. Could you have waited another half an hour?”

“I actually think this is important, Le.” Rhys ran his hands through his ginger hair and turned back to Dommi. “Sorry, Dommi. We’ll meet you down in the Conference Room after lunch.”

The Healer nodded, glaring at the blonde before closing the door behind her. Rhys then turned to his wife, a small smile forming at her mussed up look. “What?” she snapped.

“You’re ever the morning person,” Rhys replied, chuckling. He bent down to kiss his wife on the lips.

She ducked, growling. “And you’re horrible.” She picked up her wand from her bedside table and sprayed a jet of water on her face. The blonde then turned to her husband and did the same with him, smirking when he yelped. “Woken up enough, sleepyhead?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Now you know how _I_ feel when I get unexpectedly awakened.” With a laugh, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, planting him with a kiss before wrapping her legs around his waist. Rhys ran his hands through her hair, one hand settling on her hips to hold her up and the other on the nape of her neck. He broke off the kiss, and she immediately began to pout.

“We need to take a shower and _you_ need to _eat,”_ he reminded, his serious tone only making his wife laugh. “You are very, very pregnant and Ana there needs a bit of nutrition.”

“Fine. But we are _definitely_ having sex in the shower.”

“Who said we weren’t?”

* * *

 

_June, Year 2060 (Year 0): Field of Dreams, Russia_

_“You can’t catch me, Rhys! You can’t!”_

_It was a bit of a silly mistake to make; Lena only stood at one point six metres, while Rhys was over a head taller than her. He caught her by the waist easily, wrapping his arms around them and planting a kiss to her lips. Her_ _arms reached out to grab his neck, kissing him with equal fervour before she broke the kiss and continued to run. Her sprint away from him was halted when she saw two men in cloaks that she could only guess were Dark Soldiers._

_Barely mastering wandless magic before she left school, Lena felt a little nervous. She grabbed her wand, rushing to find Rhys. He clasped her hand in his, putting up a large Protego around them as she fired off several Reductos against the cloaked men. When he couldn’t handle the spell anymore, she put a weaker one in place as he found a bit of time to switch his position and recharge._

_It was during this period that the Soldiers managed to find a crack through Lena’s shield and sent a jet of characteristic green light in his direction. Lena screamed, but Rhys pushed her out of the way to take the curse. Lena screamed, yelling the Killing Curse at the two men. It seemed that her sorry excuse of aim improved because the two men seemed to have dropped dead with no sign of waking. She then rushed to her new fiancé, brushing the hair out of his face._

_“Oh Merlin,” she breathed, “Rhys, tell me you’re not dead.”_

_There was no answer._

_“Rhys, please…”_

_Lena shrieked, the tears beginning to form. The idea of using a Patronus distracted her from the reality for a moment, and she tried to summon all of the memories strong enough to conjure her Hippogriff. Once she saw its outline, she told it to run to Dominique Wagner and tell her that she needed to come ASAP. The Hippogriff then left, leaving a trail of light behind._

_Lying next to her husband, Lena placed her head on his chest, trying to feel the heave of his chest or the thump thump that signalled a heartbeat. There was none._

_She began to sob, her lungs feeling like they were going to explode. Dommi came in the middle of it all and checked for a pulse everywhere: his heart, his wrist, his neck. She confirmed what Lena already knew, and her sobs grew deafening on the deathly quiet field._

* * *

 

_July 14th: Year 0_

_RUSSIAN MINISTRY OF MAGIC TAKEN OVER BY DARK ARMY_

_By Selena Vikenti_

_Last night, on July 13th 2060, will forever remain a catastrophic one in our hearts._

_Led by recent Durmstrang graduate Dagareth Lestrange - who has now styled himself as the Dark Lord, à la Voldemort - over a hundred people were murdered in the Russian Ministry last night, including Minister of Magic Kallie Nikkala._

_We extend our condolences to those who knew someone who was affected by the attack. We thank those who have fallen for protecting our Ministry the best they could._

_The Moscow Herald will suspend a day’s production to respect the fallen._

* * *

_November, Year 0: Vorstenbach Manor, Bad Münstereifel, Germany_

_Lena groaned, rousing from the sofa in the Entrance Hall. Now that the number of occupants of the Manor had dwindled down to one, the blonde found no reason to go anywhere beyond the Manor’s ground floor. As she walked towards the door, she summoned a cheap bottle of Ogden’s she had found in the market. It was several steps to the door where she swore that she heard high-pitched cries._

_She sobered up quickly, dropping the bottle in her hand and rushing through the archway and pushing the door open. On the porch sat a rattan basket with a bundle of cloth housing what was unmistakably a baby._

_“Shit.” She was relieved to find a warming charm had been cast on the cloth and that the baby wasn’t dying in the chill. She rushed to carry the basket inside, and carried the baby out of the basket._

_Beneath the basket was a letter with a wax seal with a coat of arms Lena had not seen in years. Clockwise from the top left are a griffin, a serpent, three blue arrows and a crown adorned with a golden mosaic. On top of the letter were the words: Weralt folgen wir._

_The world follows us._

_Gingerly, Lena opened the envelope, her heart dropping to the floor as soon as she saw that it was her brother’s handwriting across the page. The blonde had not heard from her brother in years, not since his wedding two years prior. The words he had printed across the page haunted her:_

Dearest Lena,

It is no longer safe for Patricia and I to remain in continental Europe - her status as a Muggleborn has prompted us to make a break for Britain, should we make it. You probably know this better than anyone else; I send my condolences for your boyfriend’s fate. If you have not changed in the years we have spent apart, then I am sure you’ve started on the grand plan to take the Lestranges down and succeed.

Should we not make it, Ivanka - who we have left in the care of the von Bergens - will be automatically delivered to you. She’s only a few months old, but she’s absolutely beautiful, Lena. Please take care of her like you would your own.

I love you, and I know my actions in staying out of our parents’... theatrics, to put it lightly, may have put me in an unfavourable position in your eyes. This is not something that surprises me, but I still would like to remind you that regardless of what happens, I am still your brother and I will continue to care for you as long as I can.

By this letter, I, Alexander Wolfgang Helmut Vorstenbach, Patriarch of the Ancient and Noble House of Vorstenbach, concede all title, property and vaults I own to Lena Marie Johanna Vorstenbach, Daughter of the Ancient and Noble House of Vorstenbach. So have I sworn, so mote it be.

With much love,

Alex

* * *

_May, Year 3_

_Durmstrang has fallen._

_(And so has Finland.)_

* * *

_April, Year 4: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters, Entrance Hall_

_Lena stared at the intricate gargoyles that she had spent hours carving. She wasn’t sure why she had spent ages working on such minute details when no one was likely to notice them. Her eyes then turned to the sloping roof of the building, built only out of marble and several Strengthening Charms that she had discovered out of Designers Daily._

_The entire project didn’t belong to her - the Seven Devils all had a role in its design - but it felt like the closest thing she had to a child minus the one she actually had, and she wasn’t even really hers anyway._

_She took a sip of Firewhiskey, this time hidden in a soda can. No one had noticed it yet. It had been an hour since her last drink, and the world hadn’t spun enough yet to look decent. The burning sensation that she had once indulged herself in now dulled into a warm hum at the back of her throat. She took a long gulp, aching to taste the fire, but it barely licked the roof of her mouth before it seamlessly went down her pipe._

_Sighing, the blonde gazed at her friends. Frodo and Anya were laughing at some of the gargoyles, Lora and Dylan were snuggling underneath a blanket and Kait -_

_\- was heading straight for her. Shit._

_“You can’t keep drinking without me, y’know,” the brunette said. When Lena opened her mouth, she pointed to Frodo, who was still laughing with Anya. “He told me.”_

_“Kait, please don’t tell - “_

_Simply taking the can out of the blonde’s hand, the other woman simply winked at her and downed the rest of the can. “I’m not going to tell on you, you big baby. It’s not our job to make sure you live. That’s your own job.” She blinked, burping as the contents of the can settled. “Now you have someone who’s as thoroughly pissed as you are.”_

_Lena laughed, “You’re being ridiculous.”_

_“Well, Le, you started it. We used to do the exact same thing back in Seventh Year in the middle of classes when you decided the work was too easy.”_

_Wrinkling her nose, the blonde said in amusement, “We’re not in school anymore. I don’t think we can get away with tee-total drunkenness now the same way we did at seventeen.” When Kait giggled, her amusement faded. “You’re trying to teach me a lesson again, aren’t you?”_

_“Maybe,” the brunette said in a singsong voice, “or you’re just a great person to get pissed with.”_

_“Ha ha. Right. We both know that’s not true.”_

_“You are a great person, though.” Lena opened her mouth to interrupt Kait but the woman continued to prattle on. “I mean, we’ve been best friends for ten years now. We’ve been through deep shit together. Hell, we’re going through some fucked up things right now and when we come out of it, I’d like you to come out sane.”_

_“It’s a war, Kait. I don’t think sanity’s a viable option.”_

_The brunette pursed her lips. “I suppose not. But not being a complete drunkard is.” She dragged the blonde to a nearby bench, using a Reducto on the can. They watched it crumble into tiny pieces, black snowflakes gently descending to the ground. “Look, you might not have a family, and that the only place you consider home is now a pile of ash, but you can’t just retreat into your mind anymore. I know that taking care of Vanka on your own is hard, but who said that you were ever alone to begin with?” She gestured to their friends. “Ivanka is lucky as hell. She has six parents not counting the ones that gave birth to her, all of whom are more than happy to help raise her. You need some time alone? Fro and I can have her for the next day. You’re scared of hurting her when you’re drunk? Anya can help her read a bedtime story in a jiffy. When we made a pact that we were going to help each other, I wasn’t aware that you were left out of the equation. And you weren’t. So please, stop thinking that you’re alone, because it’s not the Seven Devils without you.”_

_A tear began rolling down Lena’s face. “We haven’t been Seven Devils for a while, now, Kait.”_

_The brunette smiled, wrapping an arm around the blonde’s shoulder. “And who said that? Rhys might not be physically here anymore, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t alive.”_

* * *

_March, Year 16: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters - The Box_

_According to the report, Ellie O’Malley woke ‘Rhys Edmunds’ up while Dommi was at work, and someone who vaguely resembled (read: was the spitting image of) the ginger that Lena had fallen in love with had marched into the room with only a mild interest in the matter._

_As her eyes looked up from her papers, her face paled. The man in question, the man that Dommi had begged her to see, was indeed the love of her life - or looked like it. He had the same sheepish expression he would often wear when he said hello, the same clear blue eyes, the lanky build: features that were far too easy to duplicate with Polyjuice._

_She told him to sit down on the sole chair in the room, and he did so without complaint. Going with Dommi’s advice, she did not use Polyjuice on that man; she planned on interrogating him long enough for it to wear off. “Now, tell me,” she began, “who are you supposed to be?”_

_"Sorry," he said, still smiling. "It's just... very you. It's... nice, actually." He seemed to pause for a moment. "It's me, Lena. It's Rhys."_

_The blonde snorted. "How do I know it's not just you under Polyjuice eh, Lestrange? For all I know, you dug out his body from the ground and took his hair." Tilting her head to the side, she raised an eyebrow. "Tell me something that Rhys would know. Only Rhys."_

_He began to speak of a scar, and she fought back. He mentioned a list that she had long since forgotten, and she came back with a dagger in her hand. The rallies between grew between each fight, becoming longer and drearier with drop shots and double faults. Gradually, she found herself spewing out convoluted sentences she would never dream of speaking, words that she would never string together if she was in her right mind._

_She yielded after an hour, and the Polyjuice still didn’t wear off yet._

_“Kiss me,” she said. She gave into his kiss, still warm and comforting as always, and her heart soared when she realised that this was the man she had waited years for in the most painful way. Now that he was here, she didn’t need to wait for death to join him in heaven, for it was already here._

_Kissing him was the best unforced error she’d ever make, and she married him soon after._


	3. 1C: August 17th 2080 + September 1st 2053

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sure. Let me tell the Dark Lord that all he has to do to win the war is to get drunk and fall on a Portkey behind a tavern. He’d love that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Use of ableist slurs
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's managed to read it this far. The first couple of chapters feels a bit disjointed, I know, but it's purely meant to establish important relationships and friendships, as well as some plotlines. I'm getting into the first action-y bit of the story soon (which puts me over 7 chapters ahead) though there's still the Chapter 1 rewrite I'm working on.
> 
> Thank you Mel (Dream Painter) for being the best beta in the world, as always.
> 
> Love you all and hope you enjoy this next chapter!

_ 10.00 August 17 _ _ th _ _ , Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters - The Box _

When Charles woke up, he realized too late that he was in a place with white walls and white floors and white ceilings. If he wasn’t already accustomed to being in uncomfortable places, he wouldn’t have been able to make out the outline of each object, separating one blob of white from another.

“L – Le?” he spluttered. She met his gaze for a fraction of a second, only enough to confirm their identities to each other, but she looked back down.

“I thought it would be odd for someone to use your image, considering your infamy for being an absolute twat. Then I realised that walking into the heart of the opposition by accident” - she made a show of air marks - “sounds  _ exactly _ like what you would do, Charles, if you were hoping to infiltrate and take us out from the inside out.”

“Oh yes, because I would clearly go out,  _ on my own _ , in the middle of the night just to hunt you down.” He snorted, “I’m called Idiot Prentiss for a reason.”

“Idiotic as you are, you still have safety in the public eye. You can be directly linked to the Lestranges’ good side for the past two decades and that is how you have guaranteed your survival. Others do not have such luxuries.”

Charles snorted, “The only reason you’re fighting the Dark Lord is because of a stupid childhood rivalry.”

“No, it isn’t.” The blonde waved her wand at her parchment before meeting his gaze. He almost smiled at her.  _ Twenty years and her temper was as short as always.  _  “I don’t believe that magic is the supreme power. Oh, correction - the  _ only _ power. I believe in equality between the Muggles and us, however hard it may be to achieve. We both know about the advances Muggles have made in science, and the ones they have made in our lifetime is much larger than any wizard has ever done, Light or Dark.” She paused. “I also believe that the only misdeed the school has ever committed was the belief that everyone’s abilities worked the same way.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Only then did he realise the straps holding him down, the blisters on his feet, how he hadn’t showered in the last twenty-four hours.  _ No duh. You’re a hostage, Chuck. You can’t expect five-star treatment. _ “If you know that I have… infamy for being an absolute twat, then  _ why are you holding me here?  _ It’s a lot on easier on both of us if you let me go my own way.”

“As if I was stupid enough to let you go. Now, not only do you now know roughly where we are, but also what lies inside such an establishment.”

“ _ Sure.  _ Let me tell the Dark Lord that all he has to do to win the war is to get drunk and fall on a Portkey behind a tavern. He’d love that.” Charles tried his best to struggle against the strap, despite the fact that he was wasting energy. “Also, I’m sure even primary schools have interrogation rooms nowadays, though not quite as fancy.”

“Yet another piece of evidence signaling humanity’s downfall.” She loosened the straps, if only a little, enough to let his joints rotate. The Lena Charles had been looking at began to fade away, and the door opened. He was shocked when he saw that this Lena was much rounder around her abdomen. She was carrying a bowl of food and a canteen of water.

_ Sweet Merlin.  _ A smile broke over his face.

“Shut up, Prentiss,” she hissed, though she did not hesitate to smile back. “Dommi insisted you be killed  _ immediately,  _ but you know that I’ve had many a nefarious plan in my head, and I can quite happily test them out on you.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” the woman sat in response, rushing to a seat. The man noticed how she practically waddled to it, sighing in pleasure once she did put her arse on the chair. “Other than mobility, my pregnancy has not hindered any of my activities. All I have to do is wait for little Edmunds to pop out and boom - I am able to test all of my little plans out on you.” She took her wand out of her dress pocket, giving it a swish. Charles found that the shackle on his right wrist had been removed. “Go on,” the blonde said, “eat.”

The brunet stared warily at his food. It actually looked… good. Warm too, thanks to a stasis charm. It was a classic BLT just the way he liked it: high on the bacon, low on the lettuce. Though he wasn’t quite used to eating with one hand, he did so anyway. He ate as messily as he normally would, practically grinning at her. She rolled her eyes, cursing herself for one reason or another.

When he finished his meal, however, she merely picked up her wand and muttered a Scourgify. She grinned back at him as she put the shackle back on his wrist.

* * *

_ September 1st, Year -7: Durmstrang Institute - Great Hall _

_ The Sorting felt a little juvenile, to be honest. According to The History of Durmstrang written by Georgy Krum, the only reason there was even a sorting was because there needed to be some way of distinguishing one tower of the castle from the other. Since compass points wasn’t discrete enough (and because it was 2020, so it’s not like anyone bothered to remember them because of smartphones, or whatever) they chose traits.  _

_ How Hogwarts of them. _

_ Charles knew the main difference between the four houses just from observing the men his father had in his company. Hitrost - his family house - was for the ambitious. Slushatel - the house he knew he had no chance in - was for the stealthy. Uchitel was for the intelligent, and Hrabrost was the house of the brave. If he was in either of those two last houses, he’d probably protest against it. _

_ On the boat to Durmstrang, Charles sat in an empty one with mostly first years, whose names he mostly remembered. One was a quiet boy named Dagareth Lestrange who seemed a bit… creepy for lack of a better word, and once Charles knew of his name he wanted to jump far away from him; his ancestors had been close enough to Bellatrix to know how mad she could get. Another was a girl named Katja Fridolf, who was quite nice, but otherwise forgettable. He didn’t see Lena anywhere else on the ship, though he did see her talk to a brunette on the harbour he knew to be Anastasia Telsa. _

_ One of the main topics of conversation eleven-year-olds seemed to dwell themselves upon was, of course, the Sorting. Dagareth seemed disinterested in the whole prospect, saying that it doesn’t matter as long as he gets what he wants in the end, or words to that effect. Katja had told Charles that her sister had been a Slushatel, though any House would suit her just fine. He had told her his preference - Hitrost, obviously - though he didn’t say why. _

_ The ring on his hand had been silent for the ten seconds he put it on his hand. He wasn’t sure how sentient it was - it was never rumoured to have spoken to anybody. His only wish that moment was to put in his preferred house so that he deserved one less thing to be angry about when he came home for Christmas. When the gemstone on the ring did turn teal and announced his sorting to Hitrost House, he gave a sigh of relief and went to join the other newly-sorted first years. Immediately, a teal badge was magically sewn to his robes, and he intended to wear it proudly. _

_ The only sortings that he kept track of before him were Rhys Edmunds (Hrabrost, and only because he spectacularly fell as he got down from the podium), Kendera James (also known as creepy hair changing girl, Slushatel), Dagareth’s (Hrabrost), and Frodo Merkulov (a fellow Hitrost). He made a mental note to hang around Frodo: the Merkulov patriarch and Leon Prentiss were familiar with one another, if only by name. _

_ After his own, the one he had been waiting for was Lena’s. One of the last ones to be sorted, she stood with her chin held high, her lips a thin line on her face. She placed the ring on her ring finger - her palm would have sufficed, but always the overachiever, she was - and the Great Hall was silent. The only other person who seemed to watch the blonde being sorted with as much intent as the newly-sorted Hitrost was Highmaster Rusnak, but it was probably not because he cared about her. _

_ Charles had about thirty seconds to figure his ex-friend out, given his sorting. Slushatel would be the obvious choice, if only because it was the Vorstenbach family house. She was brave as hell, so Hrabrost wouldn’t surprise him either. She was also as ambitious as Lord Voldemort, when given the chance, so Hitrost was a definite possibility. _

_ Over a minute had passed since the ring was put on her fingered, and he wondered if his blonde friend would go through the Durmstrang equivalent of a hatstall. He was curious as to why her Sorting was taking so long in the first place, reminding himself of some Uchitel girl earlier who too had taken forever to be Sorted. Was the ring torn between two houses? Was Lena giving it hell by telling it she did not mind any house? _

_ He counted the ticks on his watch. It had been almost two minutes. _

_ “UCHITEL!” _

_ Her lips grew to a smile. She joined the rest of the first years, sending her grin to everyone, even him. _


	4. 1D: August 27th 2080 + September 2076

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Genetics is a very finicky thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the wait, but here's the next chapter. We get to meet the so-called nextgen and I hope you like it!

_ 19.00 August 27 _ _ th _ _ , Year 20 - Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters _

Ellie began to braid Vanka’s hair as dinner came to a close. It was the adults’ turn to take care of the dishes. That meant that there was a lot less frantic wand waving around and many were sitting in close, hushed circles as they waited for their turn. Even in peacetime, the warning of what could come was a musky stench that clung to silverware and curtains.

“Vanka,” Ellie asked, securing the braid with a rubber band. “Do you think that Mum is alright?”

Casting a neutral glance at Dommi O’Malley, who seemed to be having a hearty conversation with Hazelle and Chara Bellamy, she shook her head in doubt. “It definitely looks like it, but it doesn’t mean she is.”

“Fair enough,” Ellie replied, letting go of the braid. “What do you think about the Prentiss person that they brought in?” Her voice lowered to a whisper, and Vanka had to crane her ear to hear it. “Alex is pretty sure that’s his father from one of his shifts.”

The blonde grew sombre; of everyone in their friendship group, she was the one that could most understand his conundrum. Merlin knows what it would be like if she ever had to face  _ her _ father again. “I don’t know what to think,” Vanka said, lingering on her words. “From all the newspapers we get, I think that Prentiss is evil, for murdering innocent people. But from the bits and pieces I’ve heard  _ äiti  _ say, I think there’s a lot more to him that we don’t know. So I’m not making any judgments yet.”

The brunette nodded, “That’s mature of you.”

Vanka shrugged her shoulders. “We all had to grow up pretty quickly, El.”

“True,” she replied, “if he decides to go and talk to Chuck, you’ll be there for him right?”

“Of course.” And in her heart, Vanka knew that it was true.

Ellie grinned, hugging her best friend goodbye. After a few minutes of Vanka twiddling with her thumbs in silence,  Taden came to join her, having spent dinner with Alex. She wondered what the two would speak to each other about. There had been bad blood between them when she first started seeing Taden - Alex had been her first love, yes, but he was her protector, first and foremost - but that had been resolved when her husband had asked him for her hand in marriage.

“Hey sweetheart,” she smiled, chastely kissing her husband’s lips. “How did your day at the lab go?”

“As well as any other day, I guess,” he replied warmly, wrapping an arm around her waist and gently pulling her close. She could hear his heartbeat slow when she did not flinch. “And yours?”

“Another dull shift with Prentiss,” Vanka said. She whispered into his ear, “Ellie’s dying to know more about him and I’m sure Dommi’s more affected by all this than she’s letting on.”

Taden laughed in amusement, pressing his forehead atop his wife’s. “Y’know,  _ Keeping Up With the Wagners  _ should be a reality TV show. Actually, it’s more like Wagner-Edmunds-Vorstenbach-O’Malley… and now Wells, I suppose.” He smiled, “I don’t mind it. It’s never boring around here.”

“I guess,” Vanka said, “this is about as boring as it gets.”

Taden’s eyes immediately gleamed. “Oh! Speaking of boring, I have something to show you!” In typical, trained-by-Lena fashion, his eyes skirted around the Hall and found that there were too many potential ears listening. “Let’s go back to our room. It’s not safe out here.”

They stood up from the bench, holding hands and retreating quietly to their bedroom. Vanka passed the Bellamy twins on the way, the sleeves of their hoodies singed from what must have been one of their games of Super Explosive Exploding Snap. Once the door to Room 35 was firmly shut, Taden gave a sigh of relief and retrieved a notepad from the desk.

“Okay,” he said, flipping a few pages. On the page were lines and lines of observations: names, dates, blood purity. “So you know how some people think that magic is just a mutation? A gamble of the smallest kind? A game of chance?”

Vanka peered at the page, eyes slowly widening and alternating her gaze between the book and Taden. “Obviously.  _ Äiti  _ mentioned it to me several times over the past couple of years. She says it’s more of a hunch than anything else.”

“Why so?”

“Squibs. Their very existence defies logic, or something. If you inbreed enough - like the House of Black in England - they have a couple of Squibs in their family. She’s not entirely sure why but she thinks it’s a mutation.” She raised an eyebrow. “You think she’s on to something, don’t you?”

“I don’t  _ think _ she’s on to something. I think she’s spot on.”

* * *

_ September, Year 16 - Meeting Room #2 _

_ “Vanka,” Lena chided, “I don’t think that all this security detail is necessary.” _

_ “You’re getting married,” the younger blonde reminded, transferring Ellie closer to the perimeter of the venue, “in the middle of war to someone everyone thinks is  _ dead _. Of course you need protection, Le.” _

_ “I would agree with you, and your constant vigilance and sharpness is very much appreciated.” Taking a look at her niece’s sketch, the future Mrs. Edmunds transferred Vanka’s entire table - which included Nicholas Moria, her boyfriend Taden Wells, Ashley Veer, Alex Wagner, the Bellamy children as well as Ellie O’Malley - to the right of the table containing the Seven Devils, Dommi O’Malley and Hazelle Bellamy. “The catch is that I’m getting at my parents’ house, where no one has been on for years, and it is our territory.” _

_ “I know that this has been brought to your attention,” Vanka frowned, “but our territory isn’t exactly difficult to trespass. Our walls are failing; there’s not many that would go out to maintain them.” _

_ “One can hardly fault them,” Lena countered. “Dagareth’s army, though not entirely flawless, is strong. One can’t hope to face them alone. However, I’m still going to insist that you do not go to the German-Czech border until you’re a couple of years out of school.” _

_ “But why, äiti?” _

_ She gazed at her niece’s seating chart and the to-do list Dommi had plastered on her noticeboard that morning. “The Dark Army have safety in numbers that we do not have. In order to combat such high numbers, we need highly skilled guards. I’m not saying your skills aren’t high enough, but - ” _

_ “I need more training, I know. But wasn’t Paris enough?” _

_ “It was more than enough, but as your legal guardian, I would prefer it if you outlive me. Not the other way around.” _

_ The silence that set like an elephant between the two women seemed to inflate in magnitude, like a balloon being pumped full of air. _

_ Ivanka broke the silence, exploding it with a bang. “I - what?” _

_ “Don’t assume that just because I let you run with a dagger, ensure that your marksmanship abilities are second to me, and a strong dueller means that I will let you fight when I deem it unnecessary to do so.” _

_ “The Lestranges’ children get to fight!” _

_ “How  _ dare  _ you compare me to their mother? That Sokol woman is a  _ fool.”

_ “Well, she isn’t a complete fool, as much as I hate to admit it. She’s the most powerful woman in the world.” _

_ Another tentative silence took place, Lena furrowing her brows in thought. “I would be inclined to agree with you if the only reason she isn’t the dirt beneath her feet is because of one small mutation in her DNA.” _

_ Vanka raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What?” _

_ “Genetics,” Lena said, “is a very finicky thing.” The seating chart on the blackboard was immediately replaced by a Punnett square. “Take the allele - one variation of a gene - that has the magic mutation as capital m, and the allele that lacks magic as little m. So capital m is the dominant allele, and little m is recessive.” _

_ The elder blonde continued with her explanation for what seemed to be forever, though the younger of the two did not mind it. By the time they had finished their talk, the bell had rung for dinner. _

_ “We must go, Vanka,” Lena said, holding her hand out. _

_ Her niece took it, giving it a tight squeeze. _


	5. 1E: September 3rd, 2080 + January 19th 2056

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who on earth do you think fathered this child? Jesus?”
> 
> “Isn’t Jesus dead?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO PASSED THEIR EXAMS!  
> so you get a chapter, yay!  
> [EDITED 18.07.2017]

_January 19th, Year -4: Fifth Floor, Durmstrang_

_The plan was in motion._

_Kait heard the unmistakable screams of a teenage girl, and stepped out of her hiding spots to see a fog of red smoke envelope a girl in pale blue robes. The girl screamed, trying to avoid the smoke, but her plans were tarnished once a cloud of green smoke exploded out of nowhere. When the cloud grew, there was another scream that bounced off the walls of the corridor._

_The Hrabrost tried her best to stifle her giggles, and she was lucky that she managed not to burst out laughing when she saw Lena Vorstenbach’s tiny frame crawl towards her, her face painted a mishmash of Roy G. Biv. As she saw Kait, her brows furrowed and her steps echoing to earthquakes in the quiet corridor. Abruptly, a Jack-in-the-box popped out of the ground, scaring the blonde out of her wits as she ran away from the large doll and towards the girl that she_ knew _had to be the cause of all of this._

 _“I have a_ date!” _she yelled, “this isn’t_ funny, _Grayson!”_

_Kaitlen did not snicker still, throwing a water balloon at the blonde. The loud splatter of rubber on stone meant that she missed. She began to throw more water balloons, though she discovered that some of these were thrown back in her direction._

_“Dammit,” she hissed. She swiftly turned around to find that the tiny Uchitel was several feet away from her. She was lucky that she had a height advantage, and quickly sped up the spiral stairs that led up to the Room of Necessity. The blonde did not fail to keep up with her._

_She made it to the top floor of the school, rushing off to East Tower because it was the furthest. She saw Frodo and Anya ahead of her, gesturing for her to please hurry up -_

_“Caught you.”_

_Lena snickered as Kait fell to the ground, barely grimacing despite the large thud. She was already standing, her wand pointed in the brunette’s face before she even had the time to compose herself._

_“What on earth are you playing at, Grayson?” the blonde asked. She turned around to acknowledge her friends, waving to them, simpering. “You can’t think that I will fall prey to your pranks? I help plan them, for crying out loud! So tell me: why on earth were you_ pelting _me with powder like we’re taking part in a fucking colour run?”_

_No one dared to answer her. Instead, the brunette pointed her wand at the blonde and Stunned her, tying her hands and feet together with rope. With a swish and flick, Lena was several inches off the ground, her blue eyes cold as steel as they pierced into Kait’s._

_After dropping Lena a few times, the four of them finally made their way to the Room of Necessity. The stone door materialised out of nowhere, something Kait still found much wonder in, and they entered the room. Inside the room, Rhys frowned as he saw the blonde tied up, scowling at the trio that brought her in. Anya immediately placed her best friend on the couch, joining Dylan and Alora in their half-finished game of Exploding Snap._

_“What’s the meaning of this?” the ginger hissed._

_Frodo relieved Lena of her rope and the blonde immediately ran towards her boyfriend, tackling him in a tight hug. They both fell to the ground with a large thud, giggling. “It was meant to be a simple intervention, but_ of course, _Kaitlen got a little bit out of hand…”_

_“A little bit? Lena looks like she went to hell and back!” He smiled sheepishly at his beloved, brushing the hair out of her eyes as they sat up. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”_

_“I’m fine, honey,” the blonde replied, removing her wand from her left sleeve and muttering a few cleaning charms to get rid of most of the powder. After, she pressed her lips on his, dropping her wand as her hand cupped his cheek. They broke apart, Lena blushing. “You were so worried about me.”_

_“Of course I was worried about you. I do love you, you know.”_

_“Aw, you love me?”_

_“Yeah.” He kissed her again._

_“GAAAAAAH!”_

_Abruptly, Rhys and Lena broke apart. Snap, crackle, pop. Silence._

_“Can you two_ stop it?” _Kaitlen shouted, “we’ve all had enough of your goochie goo goo crap since_ day one _and since Frodo likes to keep things from becoming violent,_ _he staged an intervention. Let’s face it, we know that it won’t work on Lena because_ she’s _violent, so can you two please, for the love of Merlin,_ stop _eating each other’s faces out in front of everyone?”_

_Lena stared at her friend, slightly dumbfounded. Her lips were parted, wondering if it was wise to say something, shifting between ‘oh’ and ‘wait’ with every heartbeat. She eventually settled on this._

_“You do know that you could’ve just walked up to me in the Uchitel Common Room instead of setting off grenades in the middle of the hallway to tell me that, right?”_

_Rhys nodded, pecking her cheek. “You can’t do this kind of thing twice, anyway. Though I’ll bet you’ll be just as angry as soon as Dyl and Lora get their act together and start shagging all over the place.”_

_Alora went red. “I, what - “_

_“ - and if nothing happens between you and Fro before graduation,” Lena said, gesturing to Frodo, “only then will you have the right to yell at me.” She winked at the brunette, high fiving Rhys._

_Anya was the only one giggling, and Kaitlen glared at her. “It still annoys us when you make out all the time.”_

_“Then we won’t make out all the time.” The blonde adjusted her position as she picked up her wand, settling herself on Rhys’s lap as she twirled the blackthorn stick in her fingers. “What? We’re just seven little devils hanging out in the Room of Necessity. It’s not like we’re doing anything illegal.”_

_Kaitlen was too angry to form a reply._

_Too annoyed by the conversation, Dylan cleared his throat. “So. Does anyone want to play Wizard’s Chess?”_

* * *

_11.00 September 3rd, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters - Common Room #10_

“How was Berlin, Frodo?” Anya asked, handing the brunet a cup of tea. She had made sure to keep it in stasis since Lora had brewed it over half an hour ago.

The brunet smiled, taking it from her. “Berlin was great. Though Magda is no less single.” Anya rolled her eyes at that. “Many of our contacts have noted a sharp intake in recruits ever since school broke out for summer. Some of them are under surveillance for suspected ties to the Dark Army, but nothing more than the usual.” He raised an eyebrow. “According to Jakob, one of the most promising recruits is an Renoir van Zandt.”

“van Zandt? Like Kasper van Zandt?”

Frodo sipped his tea. “Perhaps. He was raised in an orphanage in Bavaria. According to the form he left us, his mother is Alexis van Zandt.”

Lena’s head immediately whipped around to face him. “Did you say _Alexis_?”

“Yes,” the Hitrost repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us?”

“No,” the blonde frowned, “it was just that name sounded awfully familiar, is all.” She took her seat in the largest sofa in the room. “Did you manage to make contact with Miss Hansoff?”

“Of course I did,” the brunet said. “She said that all was progressing well at the school and that nothing has been out of the ordinary except for a few duels here and there. Already, first years are pledging their allegiance and most of them are none of our own or the Dark Army’s.”

“Obviously not,” Lena bristled. “We raised our children to be smarter than that.”

“I hope that we can end this war soon enough so that they don’t have to fight,” she replied, sipping on her own cup of tea. She grinned as Rhys entered the room, embracing him tightly before returning to the chaise next to her blonde best friend. “It’s been awhile since we can all sit down like this, isn’t it?”

“It has,” Rhys noted, sitting next to his very pregnant wife. She nestled her head on the nape of his neck, and he glared at the woman in question. “That’s partially your fault. You shouldn’t spend so much time with Prentiss, Lena. He’s not a good guy anymore.”

“I’m not spending a lot of time with him,” Lena frowned, “and besides, you can’t be envious of him anymore. We’re married.” She gestured to her stomach. “Who on earth do you think fathered this child? Jesus?”

“Isn’t Jesus dead?” Anya asked.

“That’s not quite the point,” the Uchitel snorted, “but I haven’t spent _any_ time with him in the last couple of days considering the fact that I have been confined to my bed and food along with the occasional walk. However, with Rhys’s help, I didn’t have to do any kegel exercises for the past month, didn’t I, Rhys?”

“Le,” Alora said, grimacing, “that’s _way_ too much information for any of us.”

Next to her, Kaitlen laughed. “It’s not like we were any better when _we_ were pregnant, Lora.”

“You were twenty when you were pregnant,” Rhys added, “and so it’s more socially acceptable for you to be horny than for poor me and Le, who missed out on _sixteen years_ of - “

“Okay, we get it.” Frodo finished the last of his drink and set his cup on the table. “But again, we are deviating from the matter at hand, like we always do at these meetings. I also would like to announce that due to the sensitive nature of Lena’s condition, Kait, you can’t duel her until she gives birth.”

Kait groaned, “But Froooooo… Lena’s a meanie!” She narrowed her eyes at her husband, before shifting to a submissive pout. “Please, let me insult her.”

“You already do that on a regular basis,” the blonde countered. “You’re standing right here.”

“See?” the brunette exclaimed, “she’s a meanie!”

“But also important to this plan,” Dylan said, entering the room with a poised smile on his face. He sat next to his wife. “What are the main observations detailed by the guards during their shifts?”

Frodo withdrew a long piece of parchment from his pocket. “The words that were used most frequently were ‘boring’, ‘dull’, and ‘tame.’” The man snickered. “Here’s my personal favourite, ‘Is he actually in the Dark Army? He seems a bit tame, like a lamb. Sounds like utter tripe to me.’”

“This _meeting_ is utter tripe.”

“Stop being rude, Kait.” Lora scolded, sitting up on her seat. “That doesn’t sound like Chuck at all. He’d always had… acquaintances in school. No real friends” - her glance shifted towards the blonde - “but he happened to know everyone. That was why Daggerbutt keeps him around.”

“The only reason he _knew_ anyone Leon Prentiss had a book detailing most of the Magical families in Europe that _somehow_ updates itself,” Frodo said, his voice the embodiment of perplexion, “the Prentisses - as we all know - are very good at keeping track of themselves. I encountered this volume when we raided the Prentiss property in Köln.”

Dylan Summoned a cup of coffee to him, _ sans sucre. _ “How come you never brought it up before?”

“Because I never knew I had it until recently,” Frodo replied, his voice silky, empty of doubt. The sharp change in tone did not go unnoticed by the rest of the Seven Devils. “I think I should go over the Krause page again. Might bring some truth to the whole Erich debacle.”

“Good call,” Lena agreed, giving him a curt nod. Something about her expression made Anya sure that she knew more than she was letting on. “Now, onto the next matter at hand: how do we get Chuck to turncoat?”

Rhys frowned at his wife. “I’m afraid you’re the only one of us who knows how to do _that,_ love.”

“I know,” the blonde replied, smirk on her face, “I was thinking about letting Rhys seduce him if we weren’t married and it isn’t so painfully obvious how straight he is.”

Anya and Lora gawked at their best friend. Kait began to hoot with laughter, applauding. Rhys choked on his drink, his face the colour of his hair. Frodo and Dylan merely sat back in their seats, looking amused.

“That’s a terrible, _terrible_ idea,” Rhys interjected.

Lena cackled, throwing her head back. “Do you _really_ think that I would do such a thing? If you were a woman, it would definitely work. Alas, you’re not, so we’re going to use me instead.”

At this, the ginger glared at his wife. _“Please_ tell me you’re not going to cheat on me.”

“And that very idea disgusts me, and my morals are few and far between.” Lena attempted to kiss his forehead, though she could only manage his cheek. “I was going to use our _friendship_ against him. We _all_ know that despite our allegiances, I’m one of the only real friends he has. So, when something particularly big comes, say, the birth of my first child...”

“... he’d want to come and see, but before he can do that, he has to change sides,” Frodo finished, frowning. “Are you sure that would work?”

“It sounds logical,” Dylan concurred, “Prentiss is an extremely emotional man. Anyone can pick that out.”

“Good. Now that the meeting has ended, does anyone want to play Exploding Snap with me?”


	6. 2A: September 10th 2080

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [stretches] i have 12 chapters written. go me.

_09.00 September 10th, Year 20: Dungeons, Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters_

“Happy anniversary, Prentiss,” Dommi said, rapping her knuckles on the iron bars of his cell. She heard him groan, rousing from his slumber and glaring at the blonde. Smirking, she slid the breakfast between the bars.

“What is there to celebrate?” the brunet mumbled. He groggily took the tray into his hands, scanning for any possible thing to hide poisons in before he took the plastic fork provided and dug in under Dommi’s supervision.

“You’ve been here for a month,” she stated, “which means that the Lestranges have one less informant. Of course, said informant is in the heart of the opposition so I don’t think they lost all that much.”

“Boo hoo for me, I guess,” he said.

He barely felt the hunger pangs that had so often consumed him when he first came, feeling rather full when he had finished his meal. In short, clipped sentences, they had spoken about their time at Durmstrang and how their exes were when they had graduated.

“Thank you for breakfast, _Healer Wagner_. I’m glad that you served me today.” He frowned when she said nothing.

“What?” she asked, “should I be thankful for being the only one you can speak to?”

“Better you than snakes.”

“I’m guessing Kait’s?” He nodded, exhaling as he realised he’d finished all the food in the container. “If you speak Parseltongue, I heard they’re good conversationalists.” 

“But I _don’t.”_

“Poor you, then.”

At the same moment, a glowing fox had chosen to enter, its silvery silhouette reminding Charles what it was. It seamlessly bypassed the metal door that stood in between them and the rest of the world. Dommi immediately erected a privacy bubble around them, the sphere forming seamlessly around their heads, nodding and popping it with a poke of her wand when the message had been relayed.

“Don’t be an idiot, Prentiss,” she said.

He snickered. “A bit too late for that.”

She scoffed, pointing her wand at him. The last thing Charles saw before the world blacked out was her trademark coy, satisfied smirk.

* * *

_09.15 September 10th, Year 20: Dining Hall, Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters_

“The baby is late.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t firstborns more likely to be late?”

Lena snorted. “The baby is half Vorstenbach. Vorstenbachs are never late.”

Ivanka found herself biting her tongue as her uncle retorted, “The baby is also half Edmunds.”

The Queen of the Light found herself glaring at her husband, muttering something about looking like a bloody penguin before attempting to stand up, almost stumbling back down before Rhys was quickly by her side, their arms linked as they returned to their quarters.

Ellie took that moment to sit beside her best friend, giggling. “That entire conversation was so cute.”

Vanka smiled, gazing at her aunt continuing to bicker with her uncle. “Yeah, it was.” She knew that she and Taden were stable and loving and very happy with each other, but Lena and Rhys Edmunds – who had fallen in love in their _first year,_ no matter what anyone else said of the matter – were something else entirely. Soulmates, even, if she believed in such a thing.

“Any chance of you birthing your own sprog in the next year?”

At this, the blonde had positively _glared_ at her best friend. The least Ellie did was wince, which was the correct response. “I know,” she replied, “stupid question – “

“Not just that,” she sighed, staring down at her fidgeting hands, “even if I ever _did_ once ever have such frivolous thoughts, it would be unjust when we’re still in the heat of war.” She stared at her aunt’s back, which seemed to be trembling in the middle of the hallway. “Rhys and Lena waited for too long to have a kidlet, so - “ 

There was a shriek. The two young adults turned to see the Light Queen screaming, some liquid trickling down her legs and onto the floor. Vanka gaped at the sight, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

“We don’t have time for that! Lena’s in labour!" They both removed their wands from their pockets. "Go get Mum!”

The blonde in question grinned as she raced Ellie towards her aunt, sending Dommi a Patronus of the news.

Vorstenbachs were never late – for important things, at least.

* * *

_06.30 September 11th, Year 20: Maternity Ward, Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters_

When a bright light hit his eyes, Charles screamed and his eyes flew open, only to realise that he wasn’t on the floor of his jail cell. The surface beneath him was quite soft – _a mattress?_ – and he was surrounded by those he knew to be Lena’s closest friends: Kaitlen, Frodo, and Alora. It was no surprise that she chose _these_ people to back her up: one was callous, one was calm, and the other was neutral.

“Listen up, dude,” the former hissed, jabbing her finger into his sternum. “You’ve been here for a month and despite the fact that _no one here likes you,_ Lena decides that you deserve a bit of a reward.” She sighed. “God knows why, but we both know that rewards always come with a price, don’t we, Prentiss?”

Charles nodded.

Kait twirled her wand in her hands, showing off some impressive acrobatics before pointing it directly at his chin. “Of course, we’re at war here, so the price you pay will be information. _Legili_ – “

“I don’t think we have to be that offensive, love,” Frodo interrupted, his tone only baring the slightest of worry. His gaze turned towards Chuck. “All of Kaitlen’s theatrics aside, she does demonstrate a point. In order for you to see your reward, we need information. Something that we’ve never heard before that could potentially come in useful.”

Charles barely wasted a breath. “Dagareth depends way too much on his good aim and Ksenia has really good reflexes. There’s a reason they team up so well.”

Alora frowned, staring at Frodo. From reading her lips, it looked like something along the lines of _Lena already knew this_. The man nodded, shaking his head at his housemate. “Try harder.”

“If you want information,” Charles said dully, “why don’t you just use Veritaserum?”

“Too much of it causes adverse effects to the liver and nervous system,” Frodo replied, his tone cool and even unlike his wife’s, “and we know from Interrogation lessons with Professor Bellamy that you had always been good at resisting compulsion. Why else are you such a valuable foot soldier in the Dark Army?”

Charles took no offense at his schoolmate’s words. That was true enough. “Are you telling me that you could offer me a more suitable position for my abilities?”

“Only Lena could ever make that decision,” Alora said, and Charles could detect a little rage in her tone, “besides, we don’t sully ourselves with those who believe that Muggles and Muggleborns are beneath us unless we need to.”

“I never believed in that rubbish,” Charles said, “but you can’t lie and say that affiliating myself with the winning side wasn’t a smart move.”

“But it was a cowardly one,” Kait mocked. She wrinkled her nose. “We don’t have all day to stare at your stupid face so, again, will you tell us information or not?”


	7. 2B: September 2080

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i mention mel is a lifesaver? she is. she totally is.

_18.00 September 11_ _th_ _, Year 20_

Lena watched Charles cradle the baby in his arms. He seemed like a natural, humming the tune of _Guten Abend und gute Nacht_ to little Anastasia Moira Jestina Edmunds, who was fast asleep. But the blonde had known the man for over thirty years, and one of the few things he was good at was pretending to be good at things. Rhys was in the room with her, clenching her hand as he observed the former Hitrost. Refusing to yelp in pain, the blonde raised an eyebrow at her husband and he loosened her grip on her, her mind still adrift in thought.

From his initial capture, Lena knew that her former best friend would have some uses. Though he was not in the Inner Circle – she had Aubrey Yusikova for that purpose – she knew that his direct association with the Dark Lord himself made him privy to a few things. Hell, he wasn’t even loyal to her and Dommi, people she considered particularly close to him. His loyalty was fickle, a dandelion in the breeze, and the Light Queen expected him to give it up quickly. She didn’t expect it to be so much as _Kait_ to be the one to break him; she thought that being her friend during their childhood made him immune to her friend.

 _You’ve got to admit,_ Lena thought dryly. _Perhaps Kaitlen’s theatrics do serve a purpose after all._

“Charles,” she called. The brunet immediately perked up at her call, practically _grinning._ She couldn’t help but give him a smile of her own; she felt rude otherwise. “I’d like to have Ana back, if you don’t mind.”

He seemed fazed for a moment, staring down at the baby. His lips pursed as her eyes fluttered open, big blue eyes he never had staring back into his brown ones. From a few feet away, Lena swore that she could hear his heart drop as he surrendered her child to her.

The blonde pressed a kiss to Ana’s forehead, passing her on to Rhys before asking for a private audience with her childhood friend. She had so many questions: how far in he was with Dagareth’s outer circle was to know where they were holding their supplies and if their stubborn attitudes towards Muggles made them unwilling to harness Muggle methods. The blonde knew from school that Ksenia was not so stupid as to let an entire arsenal of weapons go unnoticed, but her husband was more rash. There was also the fact that by sheer, dumb luck, Lena had only found a few foot soldiers that were moles sent by Dagareth and even with chance on their side there was _no way_ at least one of the people higher up _wasn’t_ a mole. Chara Bellamy came to mind as she traced the thought.

“You want children, don’t you?” she asked once Rhys left, her eyes quickly turning towards her best friend.

“That obvious?” he replied, supplying a smile with his answer. Somehow, Lena knew this to be a furtive action, yet she gave him one of her own.

“Giving up Alex couldn’t have been easy,” Lena replied, pausing. “Dommi told me how well you handled him when he was born.”

Charles shrugged his shoulders. “Well, giving up information isn’t easy either.”

Thinning her lips, Lena raised an eyebrow. “Fuck, Chuck. You cannot _possibly_ think that when you came here – the heart of the opposition – your loyalty would not be _tested.”_

The brunet regarded her with disgust for a second, his brows furrowing slightly. (They had always been a tell of his.) “What loyalty? I’m traitor to him thanks to what I told your _friends._ ” She tilted her head at him, her eyes brimming with skepticism. “You thought that my loyalty, all this time, was with _him?”_

“Was there any other logical conclusion that could be drawn from your constant fraternisation with the Dark Army at school?”

“No, there wasn’t.” _It was so typical,_ Lena thought, _for him to concede to her speculations so quickly._ “Being with… Dagareth, however, had never been about me. It had never been about Dommi, or my sister or hell, even my son.”

“Who, Chuck? Who is worth all this heartache for you to be able to _lie_ for the past twenty years?”

There was something about his smile that turned Lena’s heart stone cold.

His reply did nothing to warm it.

* * *

 

 _11.00 September 19_ _th_ _, Year 20_

“You can’t be serious,” Taden protested, “you can’t possibly think it’s a good idea to publish this. Not _now.”_

Dylan Veer respected his protégé, though he secretly thought that the man – like his wife – was prone to emotional outbursts. He lacked the political ingénue Frodo had, but the man was still considered terrifying by the Dark Army for a reason. He didn’t need many words to scare people: only a properly sourced pamphlet and a few papers could do the same.

Lifting his glasses, he said, “We are running out of funds. We have all this research – which took us _five years,_ remember? We’ve sent it out for peer review in Britain, a country that has remained neutral. St. Mungo’s have published papers as old as the days when Hermione Weasley headed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that pretty much says the exact same thing. If she can convince most of Britain – arguably the most conservative Wizarding country _in the world –_ of her logic, there is no reason why we cannot use this to gather sympathy, which in turn, should get us some funds.”

Taden frowned, “But how are any of these things going to get across the border? Many of the printing presses are broken down and the closest ones are in Paris…” He trailed off, wincing.

Dylan could understand his concern at the thought. The battle in Paris that occurred three years earlier had all but ruined the magical part of the city and almost wiped out the Muggle one. Their side had suffered some great losses, Laetitia Bellamy being the most prominent. With their star interrogator dead, it was up to Kaitlen and Frodo to pick up where she left off, and he was not going to deny that their prowess in offensive and defensive spells respectively more than made up for her loss.

It had been the first large battle for many of them, and many of the younger generation had achieved their first kill here – his own daughter being one of them. Dylan couldn’t remember Taden’s _specific_ role in the battle, but the man was definitely present, fighting against his parents in the open for the first time.

Yes, there were _definite_ concerns on his part.

“The city itself shouldn’t be a problem, if that helps,” Dylan replied, making no move to calm the younger man down. He didn’t need to; most Parisians were sympathetic to their cause and some even vehemently opposed Dagareth’s attempts to take over the city.

However, getting to the city required some thorough planning; though their headquarters were essentially Unplottable, Dylan knew that they were somewhere in the Czech Republic, so they needed to Portkey to Berlin before taking the Muggle train to Paris. That was the most straightforward plan, and one he was sure that Lena and Rhys might not improve of.

“I know,” Taden said, “but getting there would be hard. Vanka said that a smart move would be to Portkey to Italy, take the train to Geneva, drive to Lyon and then Apparate to Paris. Of course, now that I told you all that…”

“I can see how she developed that plan, but again, I’m going to have to run the entire trip through Lena first. While I write that up, do you mind going through the paper one more time, please?”

Taden grinned, “Sure. Can I start designing the pamphlet as well?”

“Of course, Wells. Lead the way.”


	8. 2C: September - October 2080 + Flashbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t just kiss me and make me feel all tingly and then just leave me alone for some other wench! I am a human being and I don’t deserve that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Nia for proofreading like, 1/2 the chapter. Thank you to Hannah for all the reviews you leave.
> 
> (Also I think my Charliddy trash is showing.)

_22.00 September 28th, Year 20: Room 5_

The conditions for Charles’s freedom had been simple: he’d be monitored 24/7, he may only associate with a few, and he was never to be on his own. Ever.

The last condition had only proved problematic when they decided that it was a great idea to let him shack up with his ex-girlfriend and the mother of his only child. Had it been any other situation, he would have suspected Lena of matchmaking, but such follies often escaped her notice if not only because she didn’t care.

It seemed that Dominique was hell-bent on ignoring him, and he honestly couldn’t blame her. There were nights where she turned the Wireless all the way up, singing along to some guy called Parry Hotter – which was a stupid fucking excuse for a name. Sometimes she would wake up from her nightmares, screaming Seamus over and over again, rolling back and forth on her bed until he woke up and slowly soothed her to sleep.

Frankly, it was difficult to look at Dommi without green-tinted glasses. Out of their relationship, she definitely got the long end of the stick. She had a family, friends, and found love in the war. All he managed to rack up in the same period of time was information and fear: things he had plenty of to begin with. He too found a little love here and there, but he’d rather put that in a compartment in his head until he died.

“You can’t ignore me forever, Dommi,” he said as she walked slammed the door shut last night.

She Scourgified the last section of the room the moment he began speaking, and he rolled his eyes. “Seriously. This is a bit childish for the _both_ of us, since we both have _children.”_ She began humming some Parry Hotter tune called _Puzzled Philosopher’s Stone,_ effectively tuning him out.

“I know living with me is like living with a den of snakes – trust me, I get the feeling – but for Circe’s sake _please,_ let’s _try_ and pretend to be civil because like it or not, we’re stuck with each other.”

Dommi turned to face him. “Wow. Look at you Chuck, _negotiating_ for once. Of course we’re civil, but it doesn’t mean I have to _like_ you.”

“Gee, I couldn’t tell by the way you pretend I don’t exist.”

“I’ve done it for the last twenty years, Chuck,” she said deadpanned, “difficult to be _civil_ to someone who left you and your kid – someone who you loved _deeply_ – when they just turn around and join forces with the ones who want to _murder_ people like me and my family. People who are not _pure of blood,_ like that _fucking_ matters anymore.”

“Like I told Lena, it had never been about me. It never was.”

Realisation dawned on Dommi, and she let out a hollow laugh. “Oh my god. Are you telling me that after _all this time,_ you still love Liddy? Or was it Kendera? Or Noah? Or that blonde _psycho_ that _– “_

“All of them, and that’s enough, Dom. I _know_ I love her. I _always_ will, the same way I accept the fact that you will always love Seamus.” Immediately, the blonde looked crestfallen in grief. “I didn’t know O’Malley very well, but I’m glad he lived and took care of you when I couldn’t.”

“I love him, Chuck,” she whispered, her eyes shining with tears. She pressed her temple to his shoulder. “I loved him so _much_. Why did God take him away from me like he did Kieran? Is there even a God at all?”

“I can’t answer your questions, but I can say that if you need someone to talk to about… your grievances, I’m here and I always will be, for the foreseeable future.”

They exchanged wan smiles. “I don’t believe you,” she replied, “but I’ll take it.”

* * *

  _September 28th, Year -3: The Catacombs_

_“Missed me, Charles?”_

_Liddy’s greeting had always sounded like a purr to him, a liana that grabbed his attention and left none to spare. The cave didn’t provide him with much light to really_ see _the girl – woman? – but he didn’t need light to know that she was the most beautiful person he will ever see. Strands of her jet-black hair reminded him of Medusa’s snakes, curling around the air around them, licking their lips and drawing him in. Her pale skin reminded him of the snow he had always been too eager to touch, recoiling once he found himself too frigid to dig his fingers through them. Her dainty features did well to mask the serpent underneath._

_It was no real wonder to anyone who could read him that despite the fact that he barely saw her for moments at a time, he had been utterly in love with this witch since his first year. It felt like a chapter of Harry Potter’s (unauthorised) biography written by Dennis Creevey, where Ginny Potter revealed that she had had a crush on him since they were kids and to end up with him was a bloody miracle._

_From the way that Liddy was, how she came and went like the Room of Requirement and was the epitome of intelligence and beauty and wit, he felt as if there would be an apocalypse before he ever got to go on a date with her, let alone hold hands and give her a proper kiss like the one he gave Tshering last week before they parted ways and moved on. Sometimes he wondered if he really wanted to date her and not the idea of her – he’d learned the hard way that the two were very different things._

_“Of course I missed you,” he replied: a reflex, an involuntary response that filled him with joy and trepidation, a care that he lacked with any other except that of his guardian._

_“Didn’t seem like it when I heard you hooking up with_ _Tshering in one of the classrooms at Hogwarts.”_

 _At this, Charles’s heart dropped immensely. At first he wanted to counter that Rhys and Lena got together by making out in the Astronomy Tower in front of Professor Wyse, but that seemed a bit insensitive of him. He knew that she knew about his involvement with the Ravenclaw, but she didn’t know that it had been of a purely physical nature: one frantic with touching for the sake of release without the risk of emotional attachment. If this were any other universe, the Hitrost would reply with the fact that it was_ she _he came to: with Tshering or in his own hand, but somehow it would feel improper to unravel the little secret he had from her._

_It did seem unfair, because there were plenty of them._

_“I am quite sure of two things. One, Tshering and I are no longer an ongoing concern. Two, that sex and love are two different things,” Charles said dimly, his own parents a shining example, “I mean have you_ seen _some pureblood marriages? My grandparents liked shagging each other, but love was never in that equation.”_

_“Does it mean nothing to know that I had hoped that one day we would lose our virtues together?”_

_Charles opened his mouth, before closing it again as he spared her statement another thought. Purely based on her regal attitude and knowledge of pureblood customs that even he had forsaken, he assumed that she was one and had already been betrothed. (His own betrothal to Maria van Rotterdam at the age of four had been revoked once her family discovered his mother’s origins and his semi-formal one with Lena would go to hell once she married Rhys anytime now.) But their circle was getting smaller with every generation – the only ones he knew of that resided in Germany were the Kleins, James and Vorstenbachs (ignoring Alexander’s marriage to his English Muggleborn) – which made it_ impossible _to miss a pureblood betrothal._

_“Aren’t you betrothed, Liddy?”_

_“Whether I am or not is none of your business.”_

_Ah, a secret betrothal then. That still didn’t line up with his idea of them; he knew the Krauses were a powerful family and anyone who would be promised to one would be absolutely_ thrilled. _Yet there was never a Lidwina Krause in his family’s genealogy journals aside from one that was old and dry, which only left more questions in Charles’s mind, but it was far too hazy on thinking about the brunette’s voice and how it would sound screaming his name to care._

 _“I see. I never thought that I’d be someone you’d trust with such a… large responsibility.” He questioned every word of his sentence. “We’ve never held hands, let alone_ kissed, _Liddy. To me, this sort of statement seems to come out of nowhere. Unless you too dream of me as I dream of you.”_

_“And what sort of dreams are those?”_

_Charles flushed. “Not the kind I feel comfortable speaking out loud. I’m afraid my relationship with Tshering went a lot further than I thought it would.”_

_“Teenage hormones are torrid things,” she replied. “I_ hate _the fact that you forget me in lieu of someone so much better when I’d rather have you to myself.”_

 _“How could you think I ever forgot you? You’re unforgettable.” He found himself stepping closer to her, taking a few more steps until his face was inches from hers. He could feel her hot breath on his face, and his heart pounding was the loudest thing in the room. “I know we don’t see each other often but it doesn’t mean that I_ forget _about you on our days off.”_

_“As if a few choice words could ever excuse your actions.”_

_“It won’t, but unless we see each other more often, I could settle for this.”_

_He cupped her chin in his palm, gently pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was chaste and quick, and he pulled away as soon as he felt her soft mouth._

_Liddy pulled Charles back in, grabbing his collars and parting his lips with her own. He let go of her chin, his hands awkwardly placing themselves on her shoulders before gently making their way down her back. When he heard no protest, he held her waist, his gentle grip slowly guiding her body closer to his._

_Their kiss was a fierce battle and when they pulled apart for air, he could make out the outline of her swollen lips. A hot, needy feeling began coiling up in his groin and he kissed her again, his hands sliding up her sides and his grip on her waist tightening, groaning her name into her mouth. Like a lightning shock, she jerked away from him, glaring daggers at him before her palm collided with his cheek with a loud smack._

_“You can’t just_ kiss _me and make me feel all_ tingly _and then just_ leave _me alone for some other_ wench! _I am a human being and I don’t deserve that!”_

_She stomped her feet on the ground, marching away into the darkness. As Charles watched her, he wondered if he would ever see her again; his heart wasn’t in the right place to provide her with the devotion she very much wanted and did deserve._

* * *

_08.28 October 1st, Year 20: Laboratory_

Lena, Dylan and Taden occupied the round table at the edge of the laboratory. The blonde was leafing through the study, scribbling some notes on the margin with her Quick-Quotes Pen. When she read the final page, she found herself grinning, her thoughts racing as she gave the report back to Dylan.

“I’m sincerely pleased,” she beamed, the remark obviously meant more for Taden than his superior. “Ksenia Lestrange _knows_ of science and is obviously good at harnessing it, but introducing Muggle and Wizarding methods _and_ combining them to make such an important document… well, that is nothing short of genius. I trust that you have put security measures in place?”

“We were going to shrink it enough and inject it into my dermis once we leave, Lena,” Dylan said, “it should hold for at least forty-eight hours which is enough time to arrive in Paris even with any disruptions.” He glanced at his junior. “It was his idea.”

“Smart, Taden. I’m proud of you,” Lena remarked brightly. She knew that Taden had been academically inclined from his grades once he applied to join _Lumen de Lucerna,_ but she knew that as with most academics – herself included – they had trouble applying their vast shelves of knowledge into something more practical. It was because of said troubles that Lena had come up with a few more defensive spells of her own, ones that she wanted to try practically soon.

“Thank you, Le – Missus Edmunds,” Taden said meekly, a healthy shade of red.

She considered her nephew-in-law for a moment, removing her own feelings of attachment to the man. He had always been good to Vanka, bringing her down and reminding her to control her temper. He was intelligent, quiet, but deep enough into the ground to _know_ things, especially if his wife was as open with him as she was with her aunt. His family’s allegiance – though this was not the _only_ reason Lena distrusted him as she did anyone – did not help, elevating him as one of the people that could be the mole in their organisation.

“Call me Lena,” she replied, waiting for Dylan to look through her notes. “I’m quite surprised that we even _found_ equipment to sequence the genomes of all these people, let alone people to test on.”

“Unlike the Dark Army,” Dylan pointed out, “we’re tolerant of Squibs. Though they’re not Muggles per se, they lack the gene that makes us magical, and therefore good test subjects. I would also like to remind you that yes, all test subjects consent to their data being published – _anonymously_ , of course – and I shall make a note of that somewhere in the study. As for the equipment, we wouldn’t have them without the help of our allies in England. A couple of assassins, Anna Tshering and her wife Iris Grayson, are sympathetic to our cause and bought one just for us.”

“Grayson,” Lena repeated, her expression contemplative, “isn’t that Kait’s sister?”

“That’s the one. I was reluctant to accept their help since Tshering had an unsavoury role in the Diagon Alley bombings of 2053, but Grayson assured that she could be trusted. And Kaitlen _insisted_ that we _insist_ on her sister’s assistance, and you know hard it is to say no to that spitfire, so here we are.” Dylan’s eyes glimmered. “Rumour has it that she was involved with Charles Prentiss during his exchange year.”

“She was, but that doesn’t matter,” Lena said, remembering the girl well. Long black hair and olive skin, a tendency to smirk rather than smile and more cunning than they gave her credit for: the first of Charles’s ex-girlfriends. “So it could be said that she is an ally of ours?”

Dylan nodded. “I know you’re wondering: how is that going to help with France? Not to worry, I still hear from a supposedly dead man named Julian Rousseau and his wife Ondrea: they keep me informed of what’s going on above the Headquarters and have said that I will be under their protection.”

“Supposedly dead?”

“Yes. He has been dead for years, according to most people. That fact alone makes him quite handy.”

“How did you meet him?”

“A friend of a friend of mine met him during my exchange year. Quite the womaniser back then.” Dylan sipped his tea. “We must be boring poor Taden to death here with twenty-year-old gossip.”

“N – No,” Taden replied sheepishly, “I just – well, your student lives sounded a lot _better_ than mine for such _obvious_ reasons but – Professor Dylan, can we _really_ trust this Julian guy?”

“I too am doubtful of his… loyalties,” Lena agreed.

Dylan paused for a moment. “His wife is no pureblood and he himself is a Muggleborn. With the way the Dark Army is slaughtering Muggles and creatures left and right in Eastern Europe, I don’t think they have much cause to side with them.”

“There is something called _coercion._ Or have you _forgotten_ about something called _the_ _Imperius curse?”_

“I haven’t forgotten, and I didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary the last time I performed Legilimency on them.”

Lena’s lips tightened. “And _when_ was that?”

“A while ago.”

She exhaled, waving her hand in a swishing motion to refill her tea. Taden blinked, eyes widening at such an action. “Fair enough. I didn’t think many of us would return to France after the Battle.”

There was a silence. “I… Lena,” Taden sputtered, his thoughts exploding like a jack-in-the-box, “you just – “

“Yes, I just used wandless magic to do something trivial. Some might say I am a particularly _lazy_ woman” – she and Dylan exchanged glances, the latter almost smiling – “but I consider _every_ possibility on the battlefield especially when one of the many things that can go wrong is losing my wand. I am an extremely powerful witch, Mister Wells, and apparently that ability is genetic, looking at your wife. I suggest that you take some cues from her and learn some _proper_ wandless magic – not the shit they taught you at Docentrebis.

“Aside, we should really discuss your travel plans. I believe it is _your_ jurisdiction _,_ Mister Wells. I’ve had to set up _three_ Portkeys and smuggle some train tickets from the black market, which wasn’t easy.”

“I _might_ have went a bit overboard,” the blond replied meekly, his skin turning an amusing shade of bright red.

“No such thing as overboard when it comes to security. I’m more relieved at the fact that you chose _not_ to drive, which is dangerous even where there are two competent wizards at the wheel.” She gave him one of her genuine smiles; after all, they did just prove her right. “Like I said before, I am quite proud of you, Taden. So far you have given me few reasons to suspect you of being dishonest. But rest assured, if I _do_ have any, you would be Obliviated and jailed straight away.”

“I know,” Taden said, his shoulders straight and chin up. “I do not intend to let you down, Mi – Lena. I swear it.”

The Light Queen gave a warm laugh. “If you were in Hogwarts, they’d have called you a _soft_ Hufflepuff, but it could be said that no one has ever heard the Hufflepuff war cry and survived. Your loyalty is anything but soft, and I can only hope that it is as strong as the diamond on my finger.”

She stood from her seat, bowing to the two men. “I cannot express how proud I am for the both of you, and as much as I would love to talk more about the scientific aspects of your discovery, I must attend to my daughter.”

Her eyes only gleamed of reverence as she left the room, absent of their usual pessimism.


	9. 2D: October 2080

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Welcome to the Mother’s Club, Lena – where the only exit is death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am 15/101 on writing. go me.

_13.45 October 4th, Year 20: Conference Room_

Lunch for Kait had been quick. Lena and Rhys had summoned the Seven Devils for a meeting earlier that morning. To her surprise, she had actually shown up earlier than any of her friends; she was usually the last one to arrive along with her husband, though she did not notice how Dylan and Alora had been slacking recently to make time for their quick interludes. Lighter in hand, she tossed it repeatedly in the air, catching it in her palm when she heard the door open and two familiar voices began yelling at each other, increasing in volume as the pair grew closer to her.

“Rhys, we don’t have _time_ for a bubble bath and massage. We have a war going on here!”

“I think you need them considering you think our one-month-old is a spy for the Dark Lord communicating in _Morse code._ Do babies even _know_ Morse code?”

“She could’ve learned it from me while she was in my womb. Babies develop ears _six weeks_ into pregnancy. Six! Imagine everything she could’ve learned about military codes and our bases and – “

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Lena, it’s not like Ana will _remember_ any of it.”

“She’s _my_ baby. Of course she’ll remember it!”

“Lena, we both know it’s not true. When was your first memory exactly?”

The blonde scowled mockingly at her husband, before tilting upwards and pecking his lips, “Touché.”

Rhys chuckled, wrapping his arms around his wife’s middle. “You’re adorable.”

“And annoying,” Kait interjected, clearing her throat. They turned to look at her. She was wearing an exasperated expression on her face. “To think that you managed to knock Nick down a peg every day yet still be so nervous about your own child. Welcome to the Mother’s Club, Lena – where the only exit is death.”

“One club I hope I’ll never leave,” the blonde agreed, sitting down on the chair next to Kait. Rhys joined her, squeezing her hand beneath the desk.

Five minutes later, Anya and Frodo chose to make their entrance. The three of them stood up from their seats to welcome them: Lena and Kait exchanged warm embraces with Anya while Frodo and Rhys were shaking their hands.

“Interrogating Charles Prentiss is proving to be much more satisfying than I thought,” Frodo said, a grin on his face, “he’s a lot more co-operating when he knows he’s been cornered.”

“That doesn’t take a lot, considering he looked pretty fucking scared when I was all up in his face the first time,” Kait grinned.

Anya laughed, “At least you didn’t have to get a knife out, or blow up the maternity ward. Le would’ve had your head if you needed to do anything extreme.”

“No I wouldn’t,” the blonde protested, which earned a snort from Kait. “I’m hardly jesting, Kaitlen. If you blew up the maternity ward there would no me to chop off your head.” She shook her head, nodding at the Veers when they entered. “Now that we’re all here, we might as well get this meeting over and done with so I can take a nap; Ana kept me up all night because _someone_ decided to be difficult.”

Rhys feigned fear at his wife as she smacked him playfully on his arm, and the seven took their respective places around the table. Lena and Rhys were seated next to each other at the seats closest to the whiteboard, with Frodo on Rhys’s right and Kait on Lena’s left. Alora and Dylan sat next to Frodo and Kait respectively, Anya occupying the empty space remaining.

“I’m going to let this speak for itself,” Lena said, and the previously empty board was now full of newspaper headlines. _Wizards for Equal Rights attack Finnish Ministry of Magic. Members of Dark Army massacred by Mudbloods. Werewolves escape Fortress of Suomenlinna._ Over twenty headlines with a similar message followed below them.

“Are you serious?” Alora questioned, mouth wide open in shock, “none of my Spanish and Portuguese friends have said anything about this.”

“They probably want to keep this out of the public eye,” Dylan replied coolly, laying his arm on the table to clutch his wife’s hand.  She squeezed it back. He and Frodo traded glances, knowing _exactly_ why she had shown them this. “You can’t be serious, Le.”

“What is she being serious about?” Anya said, before scanning the headlines again. Her eyes visibly widened as a symbol of understanding. “Ah. I see.”

“Nope. Still don’t get it.” Kait tilted her head and Lena very quickly whispered her intentions in her ear. The brunette stood up from her seat and shrieked, “Are you out of your fucking _mind,_ Vorstenbach?”

“Calm down, Kait. You’re going to make us all – “

“No, Frodo. I will _not_ calm the fuck down. I know we’ve all made stupid mistakes in the past but this is practically suicide, Lena. You have a _child,_ now. You can’t just – “

“Can someone _please_ say the fucking words _out loud?”_ Alora screamed.

There was a silence as Kait pointed a finger at the blonde. “Lena dearest,” she jeered, “wants us to _take over_ Helsinki, capital of _Finland_ , which is right next to _Russia,_ which is where Daggerbutt and all his cronies live. We’re not ready to fight them again. Not after – ”

“We can’t just keep using Paris as an excuse, Kaitlen. Wars don’t go on forever and when we see an opportunity to fight back we take it, not sit back – “

“This won’t be fighting back, Lena. This is sending ourselves on a _suicide mission – “_

“Then _how_ do you suppose we’re going to practice for the battle that’s going to _inevitably_ come?” Rhys said coolly, keeping his volume low. He glared at Frodo.

“Simulations? Analysing past battles and chess games?” Frodo aided, “there are plenty of ways to prepare each other for battles without being in the immense danger of being in one.”

“They aren’t _enough._ We tried that before Paris but – “

“ – that’s _ridiculous_ , Lena. We all know Ksenia and Dagareth’s – “

“ – people’s styles change _._ Since the War began I’m a lot faster – “

“ – pish posh. Your signature’s spell has always been – “

“ – of course it was, it’s a very practical spell – “

“ – practical? Do you even _hear_ yourself? That – ”

“SILENCIO!”

The cacophony of voices disappeared abruptly, Lena’s face contorted into one of fear when she found that she could not speak. Rhys placed his wand back on the desk, barely hiding his smirk at seeing six fully-grown adults glaring at him, begging for him to lift the spell. “Fine,” he conceded, “but _only_ if you act like the adults you are about this.”

Lena let a dramatic tear roll down her cheek. At the sight, Rhys mumbled a Finite and he found that no trace of it was there once she began talking. No surprise there.

“Anyway, _back to my point,”_ she said, “if we can get used to the way of war, then our children sure as hell can.”

“But _not_ without preparation,” Frodo added.

“Fine. We go to battle and die,” Kait folded her arms, sitting back in her seat. “Just so the rest of you know, I _hate_ this.”

“No one likes battle, but even Lora thinks it’s necessary,” Anya said. “Anyway, let’s go take a walk in the garden, Kait. I think we both need some time to cool down after all this mess.”

Lena rushed after the both of them, yelling that she was coming and for them to wait up. As the trio walked away, Rhys did not miss the distance Kait was putting between her and the blonde. There was a silence before Dylan said, “It’s not quite a Seven Devils meeting unless Kait and Lena stage a duel.”

“No it isn’t,” Frodo agreed, “I think that Le’s going to try and _pet_ her way out of this.”

Alora frowned at his words, “I’ve never heard of wars ending because someone decided to be _petty.”_

Rhys sighed, “No, but it has started many.”

* * *

_17.30 October 9th, Year 20: Dining Hall_

Charles felt dizzy. He was used to using Occlumency to cover his mind, and so lifting it up made him feel like a string had been snapped, and pretty much fell asleep as Lena used Legilimency on him. From what she told him, she only sifted through the memories where he met with the Dark Lady and he knew that he had disappointed her because he had never been smart enough for Ksenia; he could feel her superiority complex from miles off.

It was at dinner that his sense returned to him as Dommi chatted away with her daughter and son. He tried not to crush his cup as he watched what might’ve been if he hadn’t ran off to Dagareth at the first possible opportunity. A family man, perhaps, who cared and loved for his children – or at the very least, someone with a wife he could trust and count on not to run for the hills once his cunning streak left a scar that ran too deep.

Ellie snapped her fingers in front of his face, the smile she put on warm and reached her brown eyes. “Is everything okay, Mister Prentiss? You seem a little bit out of it.”

Charles simpered, knowing that it often came across as a smile. “I’m quite fine, Ellie. Thank you for asking.”

The woman continued to beam at him, interrupting Alex’s remark as she continued to chatter about some of the make-up charms that she had been experimenting on Cordelia Bellamy and how Madame had had her head on a stake once she realised she had turned her daughter green.

“I never knew she had such a temper! You’d think that by the way she’s so _nice and proper_ to everyone that she could hold me at wand point!”

“Haze’s temper is quite legendary,” Dommi said, grinning, “I remember when we were at school, and we were fighting about some boy” – here she met Charles’s gaze – “it wasn’t you, Chuck, _get over yourself._ So yeah, we were fighting over this boy and we duelled near the Water’s Edge, proper rules and everything.”

“Wow,” Alex laughed, his eyes blatantly avoiding those of his biological father. Something about the way the man sat, his arm rightly wound around his mum made the conman feel bitter. “How did it turn out?”

“She won by a landslide and got the right to ask him out. She did, and got rejected. Didn’t matter too much to me at the time, but Charles here asked me out and you know the rest of that story.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him in amusement, but the brunet knew the timing of the whole thing was off.

He went along with it anyway. “Wait, was this the time you duelled her over Abraxas Montague?”

“Yeah, that’s the one! I can’t believe he ended up dating Minos Hansoff though. I mean, if I knew he swung that way – ”

“I didn’t think anyone was meant to, Dom. Poor guy.”

They both sat there, laughing to themselves on old memories they had shelved behind a brick wall made for safekeeping. His old nickname for her had slipped out of his tongue without warning. Their eyes found their way back to each other again, brown on brown, and he could feel the warmth that he had so dearly missed from her flooding back again. His heart fluttered the way his sixteen-year-old heart did the first time she was dressed in blue for their date, and it soared with courage.

“So, do you want to have dinner next week, Dom?”

Dommi’s face paled. “I – well, I thought you’d never ask, Chuck.”

Behind them, Ellie began to snicker and Alex groaned.

* * *

_00.45 October 11th, Year 20: Portkey Room_

“I can’t believe you’re really going back there, Daddy,” Ashley said, pouting. Nick stood beside her, his arm slung around her shoulders, holding her close to his frame.

Dylan looked at them, amusement the only expression apparent on his face as he regarded two of the many people he regarded his kids. _Merlin, I should start planning The Talk with Frodo and Rhys when I get back._ “We all have to face our demons one day,” he said comfortingly, “and I assure you, we will be safe and come back in one piece, Ash.”

“You know that I wouldn’t have let him go if I wasn’t at least eighty percent sure he was going to be fine,” Alora added, kissing her husband chastely. He raised an eyebrow at her at her sentence, and she chuckled. “Alright, _eighty point one_ percent.”

“So distrustful of you, Lora,” Dylan teased, kissing her forehead. As his wife and daughter began to talk about what they wanted him to get while they were in Paris, Nick didn’t dare look at him. That gave Dylan a small something to chuckle about. He had practically raised the boy, along with the rest of the Seven Devils. Yes, he knew Nessie, Vanka and Ellie (plus now, he supposed, little Ana) like his own children. With all of the battles and meetings that were going on, they often asked each other to babysit, sometimes going as far as paying when they were desperate.

So really, all Dylan had to do was a give a threatening, ‘you mess with my daughter I mess with you’ talk to his own proverbial son. Which was nigh impossible, because he’d never do that, yet at the same time he couldn’t _not_ give a warning with a sinister undertone.

It took him a while for him to settle on the phrasing, but eventually he said, “Take care of her while I’m gone, and we’re all good.” This earned a fervent, firm nod from his maybe future son-in-law, and the elder man ruffled his dark brown curls. “And if you break her heart, I will break your – “

“I know, Dylan,” Nick said, sounding exasperated, “Frodo and Rhys gave me the talk about Ashley _twice_ already. I know that I have twenty people ready to fight me if I so much look at her the wrong way.”

“As long as you don’t cheat or force yourself on her, then we’re not going to go against you en masse.” He looked at the rest of his family, who were waiting for him. He came over to them, Nick following quickly behind him. He gave his daughter a kiss to the forehead, gave his wife a lingering kiss on her lips, and whistled loudly.

Two heads of dishevelled blond hair came out of the nearby door. Dylan smirked at Taden when he realised _exactly_ what he had gotten up to. His wife mumbled a few straightening charms at his shirt before leaping into his arms, capturing him in a passionate kiss that no person would ever want to watch. In horror, Lora screamed. That managed to pry Taden and Vanka apart, their faces beet red in embarrassment.

“I understand that you two are going to be apart for some time,” Dylan said, “but was that display _really_ necessary in front of two such young _innocent_ people?”

“Ashley and I are almost the same age,” Vanka interjected.

“We both know I’m not all that innocent, Daddy,” Ashley chimed in at the same time, trying not to snicker.

“You should really consider how they feel about all this, you know. This is a _public_ place. Imagine how many people would’ve been _disgusted_ by your display, Mister and Missus Wells. You know better.”

“I apologise, Dylan,” Vanka said, choosing to ignore Dylan’s outburst before giving him a hug. “Take care of my husband, yeah?”

“Of course,” Dylan said, the words hanging heavy. No one could deny her devotion to Taden, and if anyone was going to truly kick his ass if he came back dead, it would be that girl. _Just as terrifying as her äiti_.

As he and Taden made their way to the Portkey, he saw that he had only a minute left before he was due to leave. His family and Vanka stood a few feet away from them with varying emotions. Ashley and Lora were a little tearful, Nick was already waving his hands, and Vanka was trying her best to look cool. Dylan chose this image to remember of his family as his navel was pulled quickly inward, leaving them behind.


	10. 2E: October 11th 2080

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was to their surprise when they discovered a cow had been the Portkey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last filler chapter for a while (i hope)  
> \+ julrea cameo bc why not

_ 00.30 October 11th, Year 20: Room 5 _

Dommi sat up in the bed, turning on the little night light next to the bed. “Can you sleep, Chuck?”

Charles, who groaned, answered, “Nah, not really.”

The Healer held the sheets close to her chest, crushing them with her fists as she smirked at the brunet. “How come?”

He rolled his eyes.  _ Merlin, this woman is  _ impossible. “I’m thinking about how you were on top of me about half an hour ago, and  _ this  _ is the time you choose to be demure and innocent?”

“I am  _ not  _ being demure and innocent,” Dommi protested. She leaned in, closing the gap between them, and gently kissed him on the lips. Her hand trailed down his side, cupping his arse, pulling his body close to hers.

Charles came to life again, moaning into her mouth. His arm, which had always been under her shoulders, trailed down to her waist before squeezing her arse. Dommi yelped and broke away from the man, laughing once she saw his shocked reaction. “I was being a tease, Chuck – the worst kind of girl.”

“Why you oughta – “ His fingernails lightly grazed the skin of her neck, but it was enough to send the woman into peals of laughter. He was thrown back twenty years when she did, reminded of the schoolgirl who had that same laugh when she was dragging him to broom closets to snog before Potions. He missed those times, if only because they were simpler and his hands were clean.

“S – Stop!” Dom squealed, pushing him away from her.

Charles put up a mock frown and she began laughing again, and he quickly decided that it was one of his favourite sounds. Ahead of her laughter was when she was saying his name and pretty much any noise Liddy made out of her mouth.

Oh Liddy. He’d spoken to Dom at length about her today and she’d done the same with Seamus, and it was more an exercise to get that off their chests more than anything else. He’d told her that she would never marry him and that he was probably nothing more than a very good fuck buddy to her, something that was so _wrong_ ** _wrong_** **wrong** considering their last meeting, but he needed to convince himself that there was no Liddy to pine after.

The fact that the man  _ allowed  _ himself to run after the Metamorphmagus for almost three decades was pretty fucking pathetic without any true concrete evidence of reciprocation, to be honest. Even  _ he  _ thought that. Hell, the girl had married another dude, had a kid with him and he  _ still  _ liked her. Still agreed to warm her bed for weeks at a time before she disappeared. Still did some awful things for her. Still loved her.

Enough to think that the only other thing worthy of his time was  _ Dark Army gossip. _

He turned away from those thoughts, instead focusing on the woman with the bright laugh that made him think the sun shone out of her arse, was horrible at attacking people, and believed in Hippogriff rights. That’s the kind of woman he deserved and for now, wanted.

His fingers stopped tracing her arm as she bid, and he proceeded to plant a gentle kiss on her cheek. “You are quite adorable, young lady.”

Dom snorted. Yet another beautiful sound. “You are quite charming yourself, monsieur.”

Charles positioned himself on top of her. “Oh,  _ am  _ I now?”

* * *

 

_ 06.25 – 10.30 October 11th, Year 20: France _

Dylan and Taden had first arrived in a barn in Austria. It was to their surprise when they discovered a  _ cow  _ had been the Portkey. They were then transported to an abandoned Italian cottage off the coast of Sicily before they arrived in Wizarding Lyon, where they were greeted by a handsome man’s face.

“I expected Rousseau,” Dylan said, smirking once the other man rolled his eyes.

“Is my face not pretty enough for you, Veer?” he replied, turning his head to face the blond, extending an arm so that they could shake hands. “I’m Hazelle’s brother, Jakob. Unlike my sister, I don’t care whether you Scourgify the plate first before handing it to me. Nice to finally meet you, uh…”

“Taden,” he said, “Taden Wells.”

Jakob’s arms immediately dropped to his sides, his face turning a sour experience. “Erick’s son,” he muttered, before clearing his throat and beginning to speak again. “My apologies. He and I were in the same year at school and… let’s say he was not the most pleasant boy to be friends with.”

“I can empathise,” he looked around at the room they were in. To his luck, the older man did not pursue the matter of his father further. It was quite empty, with black shelves lining the white walls that were full of books. On the walls were lots of pictures, some of which included a younger version of Hazelle Bellamy at her wedding, Jakob and his sisters in Durmstrang, and a photo of what he was sure were the von Bergens, though there were some that he did not recognise.

“I’d tell you about everyone in my family, but we simply lack the time.” Jakob took Taden by the arm and led him to the entrance of the door, where a tall blonde was waiting for them.

“What on  _ earth  _ took you so long, Jakob?” she said grumpily, though her expression immediately perked when she saw Dylan. “Oh! Mr. Veer, I hope you remember me from school, I’m – “

“It’s nice to meet you again, Magda.” He took the woman’s hand and kissed it out of mere politeness. There was a look of amusement on his face as he remembered how the elder girl had a bit of a crush on him in his fifth year and proceeded to remind him of it at every single opportunity, despite the fact that he was already quite taken with Alora back then.

“It’s nice to see you too!” Magda responded cheerily, for once not blushing or throwing him a flirtatious remark. “Come! My sister’s going to drive us all to the station.”

Taden looked quite nervous once he saw the car. “I, uh, what’s that?” he asked, pointing at it with a bewildered expression on his face.

“This is a Ferrari F12, all the way from 2014. In Muggle France, my baby is worth  _ billions.”  _ Jakob petted the car lovingly,  “but you can call her Beatrice.”

“I – “

“You’re riding shotgun, Taden,” Magda interrupted, pushing the younger boy towards the door. Sheepishly, the blond opened the door, got in and closed it shut. “What the hell did he ride for his wedding anyway, a Hippogriff?” Dylan nodded. “Circe’s left tit, you  _ can’t  _ be  _ serious _ – “

“Oi! Magda! We don’t have all day! You’re not even  _ coming,  _ for crying out loud.”

“All because of that  _ one time – “ _

“Thank you so much for the help, Magda. I hope to see you again soon.” Dylan shoved Jakob into the backseat, and the older man screamed when his head hit the roof of the car. “How is the French base?”

“Preparing quite well for Helsinki. I hope I won’t have to see you there.”

“Don’t think I’ll make it back in time for that.” He gave Hazelle one last wave before he entered the car himself, realising that the entire time they had been talking, Taden had acquainted themselves with whoever was in the front seat.

“Let’s go,” Dylan said, and the engine immediately began to rev as they raced away from a rather disgruntled Magda. Jakob let out a sigh next to him, asking the driver – Johanna, her name was – to pick up speed.

“I might be a Squib, Jakob,” she scolded, the boredom in her tone making it obvious that this was not the first time this sort of thing has happened, “but I am not a doormat, nor am I going to break any more traffic laws than I already have to.”

“Huh?” Taden asked, “wha – “

Johanna made a very sharp turn to the right, and thankfully, everyone had the sense to put on their seatbelts once Jakob and Dylan were tossed onto the other side of the car, a tangle of limbs as Dylan’s head rested on Jakob’s lap. The rest of the ride was equally as turbulent, and it was a surprise that they managed to survive the trip at all. The woman saluted the three men off before she drove off to her yoga class,

There, they waited until the train arrived. The train had arrived impeccably on time, as always, and Dylan was quite glad that it had. Jakob showed them to their seats. The doors closed automatically, which startled Taden a little, but his shock was quickly dissipated as the train left the station and the scenery seemed to run away from him. During the journey, Taden alternated between staring outside the windows and writing profusely in his journal, even taking a few photos, as part of a present he vowed to show Vanka when they got back to Headquarters.

_ If _ they got back.

While he was doing that, Jakob and Dylan had engaged in several games of chess, which the latter won easily.

At approximately nine-thirty, the trio were almost arriving at Gare de Lyon. It took a while for Taden to exit the gate, as he was somewhat confused with how the tickets worked, but he got it eventually. They were immediately greeted with the welcome faces of Julian and Ondrea Rousseau.

“Now there’s a face that I’d like to see,” Dylan smiled, embracing Julian and giving him a pat on the shoulder. The couple introduced themselves to Taden, who took an immediate liking to them as far as the eye could see.

Jakob snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re out here. In the open. Where everyone can  _ see  _ you. Are you sure this is a good – “

“Jully’s fine. We’ve got that under control,” Ondrea snapped, “now let’s get these two out of here so they can get some  _ proper  _ rest.”

* * *

 

_ 17.45 October 11th, Year 20: Dining Hall _

The Dining Hall had been transformed. Gone were the groups of tables that housed the five hundred or so Rebels for dinner, and they were replaced by a long row of benches on either side of the Hall.

At the front of the room, what remained of the Seven Devils were busy. Anya was casting Undetectable Extension Charms on everyone’s rucksacks that Frodo had already cast Weightlessness Charms on. Kait and Lena were getting catnaps – there were recent burn marks on the walls that were half removed. Meanwhile, Rhys was tending to the baby, ensuring that Dommi knew  _ exactly  _ what to do with Ana while he was gone, and Lora was practicing her weaker spells.

Ivanka and Ellie were in the crowd, duelling each other as a warm-up. Frodo observed how the duels between them were almost seamless. He knew that Ellie was not the strongest dueller of her generation, but Protego and Impedimenta had always come easier to her than something like Reducto or Stupefy. Having seen how well they worked in tandem in Paris as sixteen-year-olds, it was no surprise that even fighting for the both of them was smooth. He did, however, see one marked difference between them, but before he could think it to himself Kait had roused from sleep and kissed his forehead.

“Was I out for long?” she asked, grimacing at the marks on the walls. She began to speak again when her husband nodded. “Remind me to cause that much damage on Daggerbutt when we fight, now will you?”

“I had to cast bloody  _ Sleeping Charms  _ on both of you to get you to shut up,” Lora grumbled. “Does this have to happen before  _ every  _ battle?”

“Catnaps are good for the soul,” Lena said, “and besides, not everyone can give me as much of an offense as Kait over here. Not everyone has the Reducto power of Daggerbutt, and that’s a relief.”

“It still doesn’t  _ quite  _ justify ruining the Dining Hall for everyone else, though,” Dommi pointed out, cradling Ana in her arms. “Also thank you for turning me into the Lena of the Headquarters while you’re gone. I lack the paranoia and the arrogance for it but I hope I can do the job well.”

“You will,” Frodo smiled, knowing better than to let whatever Lena was going to reply with bubble to the surface. The blonde rolled her eyes, cleaning the rest of the mess with a few waves of her wand. “I think that as long as no one dies in our absence, you’re doing fine.”

“Shame that you only have Prentiss for company, though,” Rhys said sourly.

Lena frowned, “Come on, Rhys. Chuck is a self-absorbed, selfish, _stupid_ ass, but he’s not a horrible person by any means. Just, you know… annoying.”

A light flush had appeared on Dommi’s cheeks, and that pretty much confirmed everything that Frodo had heard while he was on patrol in the corridor last night. He was honestly amused that the two of them got their act together so quickly, but there was nothing that forced isolation couldn’t do, and it wasn’t like they were working with nothing to begin with.

The brunet continued to watch the crowd below, noticing that the four young adults he had considered his children now duelling each other in unusual pairs: Ellie with Ashley and Vanka with Nick. He knew that they had picked up such a habit from their parents, though there was no denying the chemistry between Ellie and Vanka was perfect. It was the same way that the married couples within the Seven Devils worked best but they all worked well together, particularly Lena with Anya and Lora with Kait. The Interrogation Specialist thought that perhaps it had to do with the bonding performed in their marriage ceremonies, but it did not explain the two women below him.

Strange.

Lena was busy trying to get the six of them together for an announcement, and Frodo knew better than to cause her any delay. He went up to stand among his friends, and once she had acknowledged him, she nodded before turning back to the crowd ahead of her.

The blonde cleared her throat, and the crowd spun forward to listen. There was no need to magnify her voice with a charm; she had designed the hall so that the acoustics would do all the work for her.

She took a deep breath and began.

“We are gathered here today to participate in a battle that has been four years in the running. I know that some of you feel like we’re not ready” – she glared at Kait here, who only shrugged her shoulders – “but we have been at a stalemate for years. It has been a year since we claimed any new territory and I’m afraid that the world will stay this way: us in the West and them in the East.

“But we know from the Cold War the Muggles had in the twentieth century that it’s an unstable arrangement. Things don’t  _ like  _ to stay apart. Things like to diffuse, to spread out. When particles diffuse, there’s an increase in entropy, and the universe  _ likes  _ this. Loves it. Why else do you think that we are so drawn to chaos, to war, to defiance?

“Don’t you dare deny this: if so, then think about why you are here. If you aren’t, you could have chosen the safe thing and that is to remain neutral. But no. Most of you are here  _ willingly,  _ to fight for the equality of Muggleborns and purebloods. Many of us are spying or training for the final battle, isolating us from friends and family. Some of us are using our pureblood privilege to change the minds of millions with Muggle science.” Lora smiled fondly here at the blonde, and she continued to speak.

“The point of us taking charge and going to battle is not to win the war. We’re not fighting to kill Daggerbutt. We’re not ready to do that. We are fighting because we want to show the Dark Army that we are  _ not  _ backing down, we are  _ not  _ giving up, that we are  _ passionate  _ and  _ genuinely committed  _ to our cause the same way they are to theirs. We want to show that even if they have more people at their charge, we have more spirit in our hearts than they have in their whole bodies. That we do not stand for the oppression of people simply for their blood. That we are ready to lay down our lives so that the generations after us will realise blood doesn’t matter. It never has and it never will.

“Maybe we will accomplish something with this battle. Maybe we may find our opportunity to rise above the prejudice that has lead us to the ruin of our beloved continent. We will not fight them because of their beliefs – everyone is entitled to that – but rather, what they have done  _ because  _ of them. They are using prejudice to justify the death of countless innocent people. Many of us might not  _ completely  _ agree on creature rights but we  _ know  _ that murdering them simply because of it is wrong. Why? Well, we have hearts and minds and know that two plus two equals four. Yes, even you Prentiss.”

There were a couple of laughs there.

“We have wasted enough time dawdling. I suggest you all get some rest. The Portkey in your backpacks will activate at oh-six hundred, and you will land in a forest in the south of Denmark. The boat to Helsinki will be waiting for us at twelve hundred, four days from now at Copenhagen. If you miss it, please stay with our friends at Copenhagen. They will be waiting at the port and keep you safe until the leaders based in Berlin and Paris send you home.

“Any questions?”

There were a few, and once Lena had answered them they were dismissed.

As he and Kait returned to their room, Frodo kept thinking about his friend’s speech. Something about the battle made him uneasy, as if he knew that something was going to change.


	11. 3A - October 2080 + Flashback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually have all the way up to 4b written i'm just lazy to post them

_October 6 th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters – Meeting Room #5_

_If Lena ever had to call herself out on one of the worst ideas in the universe, this would probably top the list. And this came from someone who was friends with Kaitlen Grayson._

_Charles was sitting in the Meeting Room, analysing the strategy that she had on the chalkboard before her. Sure he was no Dylan, and where the scientist could see how the puzzle pieces could fit together, the conman was good at seeing how everything didn’t or couldn’t or wouldn’t. The blonde remembered his father well – having killed him herself, of course – and though Charles would never wish himself the problem of being his duplicate, they definitely share some traits._

_“Are you_ sure _you want to let Ivanka fight Donnica Lestrange again?” he asked her._

_“I’m quite sure, Charles,” Lena replied._

_“Then your plan is flawed,” the former Hitrost replied, staring at the board again. “You said that in Paris, Ivanka got beaten out by what you believed was a combination of Tarantallegra and Impedimenta that Donnica had cast?”_

_She nodded._

_“I understand that Vanka has some sort of… grudge against her, but this would be an unwise move. Like the rest of the Lestranges, Donnica has a strong offense though she does lack the polish her parents and brother has. ” Lena raised her eyebrows. “Don’t act so shocked, Vorstenbach. You_ do _realise that I have duelled her once or twice to prove my usefulness to the Dark Lord, right?”_

_“And you do know that Vanka has been increasing the power of her defences to counter her strong attacks with the Queen of Defence Shields herself? I think she can handle that little witch.”_

_“We both know she can, but the whole point of this battle is to take Helsinki, not prove to the whole world how wonderful your daughter is.” Lena’s lips parted as if to say something else, and thankfully Charles knew better than to ask. “I think it would be more suitable for Ivanka to fight_ Jarlan _, but only after he’s had someone to weaken him.”_

_“There’s a reason I put him up against Dommi, Chuck.”_

_“I wasn’t talking about her.” He moved one dot from one side of the battlefield, swapping it with another. “I’m talking about_ her.”

 _Lena’s jaw dropped._ “Ellie, _Chuck? You can’t be serious. She has great defensive shields which I’m starting to think is a Wagner trait, but Ellie can’t just use Protego every time Jarlan comes at her – ”_

_“And she won’t. Stop underestimating her. I’ve finally met her and she’s smarter than you think.” Lena raised an eyebrow and Charles snorted. “How else could you explain the fact that she and Ivanka work together so well if she wasn’t?”_

_Exhaling, Lena replied, “Fair enough. Now what do you think of my idea of attacking the Parliament in waves?”_

_That was how they spoke for the next three hours. Lena pointed out an area of strategy that she knew was a weak one, and Charles’s insight into the Dark Army made it easy for him to counter her with weaknesses. Once he approved for something and thought it required no change, he’d nod and point something else out for them to sort out._

_About two hours into their discussion, Charles managed to outline the strategy he thought Donnica and Jarlan would use once they joined the fray based on his previous experiences. He warned her that the mess the Dark Soldiers tended to be disappeared as soon as the Lestrange children took the reins. It was a wonder that the man was still alive by the end of all this – though it could just as well be because he was never part of the Dark Lord’s inner circle._

_“I’m not saying that’s what’s going to happen,” the former Hitrost said, finally pausing for breath, “but I did my share of fighting in Paris, in Berlin, in Stockholm. You can’t see it because you’re on the front lines, but there’s a pattern in how they fight. There’s a pattern in how you fight too. I know what you’re thinking: you’re scared that one or more of your people are gonna rat you out. They will. But they won’t know these changes – the ones we devised together. And this is why you’re going to win.”_

_“That’s a lot of faith in the enemy, Chuck.”_

_“That’s because if the enemy wins, we don’t have to hide anymore.” He looked away from her, and there were no guesses as to_ who _the we included._

_“If you love this girl, then why are you chasing after another?”_

_“Because I need to move on,” the brunet said wanly, “and realising that you have a problem means that you’re halfway there, or something like that.”_

_“You do know that if you break her heart, I’ll break your body tenfold, right?”_

_“I’m quite aware. You threw knives at me when I broke her heart the first time.”_

_“Oh yeah.” Lena smirked, thinking back to those simpler days. His frightened face as she locked them up in the Weaponry classroom was now a gauge to see if she terrified a person enough. “We both know that I’m capable of much worse things now, if you already haven’t seen me in battle already.”_

_“Difficult not to pay attention to you when you’re the best Illusionist in the world.”_

_Her smirk immediately faded. “You mean there are others?”_

_“That, I don’t know. The chances of being any other are small because it’s a recessive gene, but your family runs deep with the other pureblood families. I’m surprised there hasn’t been more Illusionists.”_

_“Well, the Vorstenbachs would rather get rid of it, considering it’s a very confusing mutation of the Metamorphmagus gene. Before my grandmother, no one could quite control their abilities so people thought it was something to be afraid of. I mean, it is but – ”_

_“I get it.” Charles gave his best friend a small smile. “Who knows about your abilities?”_

_“Just the Seven Devils, you and Vanka. I didn’t think I should tell anyone else.”_

_“And you shouldn’t. It would be unwise for you to.” He then sat squarely in front of her. “Since we obviously have nothing else to discuss, I think this is the part of the meeting that you Obliviate me, just as we promised.”_

_“Okay,” she said, pointing her wand at his forehead. “Obliviate.”_

* * *

 

_October 20 th, Year 20: Baltic Sea_

There were few times that Lena thanked herself for being a rich pureblood, but this was gladly one of them. The complex of flats that had belonged to her parents in Alppila was now put to good use, thanks to Topias Kuurinen and the other Finnish students she had met in Durmstrang. They converted it into proper headquarters soon after the war began in Russia. Only accessible by tapping a specific rhythm, it was pretty secure, since said rhythm was the first line of Maamme, and not many knew it.

It had been days since her feet touched soil that did not move beneath her, constantly sailing off into the horizon. Sometimes she would roam onto the upper deck, having a chat with Jurgen Aigner, who she had not seen in years. They spoke about the days where their biggest concern was trying to break off Fabian’s betrothal to Magda so he could marry Leonora, how small the Copenhagen base was, and how Lena was surprised he participated in any form of activism at all.

“Simple,” Jurgen had replied, “the Dark Army killed my family. You find that without something to fall back on, your priorities start to change.”

According to him, they were scheduled to arrive in the Helsinki’s port in two or three days. From there, they would be transported in trucks to the Headquarters. When asked for the finer details, Jurgen had kept quiet on it, saying that he will only alert the others to be ready when the time was right, even when he needed to guide two hundred people how to do it.

The blonde spent her time in the lower deck playing some games of Exploding Snap with Kait, wondering how Ana, Chuck and Dommi were doing back in their Headquarters, and trying to focus on the real reason she had wanted to stage this battle in the first place.

It had never been about practice. For a war, there was never such a thing. Practice in war doesn’t mean perfect: it means effectiveness and a small number of casualties – which was never truly possible. If the blonde was going to be honest, she expected those to come home out of their original two hundred to be about fifty, counting all six of her Devils, and that was being _extremely_ optimistic. 

No. The true intention of this whole battle – which took months of orchestrating and planning and _thinking_ – was to know that if her paranoia that had been built up for the last several years was justified. She hoped to Merlin that it wasn’t, but there was a particular reason that she had always trusted herself so fully, and others so little.

_There was a mole in our ranks._

She knew that it had to be why they had suffered such great losses in Paris when their strategy had been rock solid. She knew that if she was right, the same would happen in Helsinki, and she would have led people – _her_ people – to their deaths. All so that she could stop fighting herself and the rest of the world.

 _So the world could stop fighting too._  

At dinner, Lena found herself wanting to melt into her husband’s lanky frame, barely picking up the food that was served. Her cheek rested on his shoulder as her fingers fiddled with the fork. Her husband merely held her as he brushed her hair out of her face, gently poking a spoonful of stew into her mouth until she would eat it, spoonful by spoonful.

They returned to their cot that night still touching each other: Rhys lying on his back, his arm outstretched below Lena’s neck. Her arm was wrapped around his torso, her right leg swung around his hip, and her head was still on his shoulder. She was still silent, staring up at the empty ceiling.

She began to speak. “Have you ever felt really guilty to the point where you wanted to throw up, cry for a bit, and then just forget the world indefinitely?”

“Every time I remember that I left you for sixteen years, Lena.” He bent down to kiss her forehead. “But then I remembered I would be leaving you again, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“Same here,” she replied. She then asked her husband if there were appropriate Silencing Charms on their cot, and began to talk when he answered in the affirmative. “Do you think that… that all the _fighting_ we’re doing now, all of this anger and death and violence, do you think that it might turn out alright in the end?”

“I can’t say,” Rhys replied, adjusting to his side so he could see her face. “But I know that I won’t mind any future as long as you’re by my side.”

Lena smiled, thinking the answer satisfactory for now, and she leaned in to peck him on the lips. He smiled back at her, letting her stay silent.

That was one of her favourite things about Rhys. He hated it when she kept secrets from him, and vice versa, but he had always let her bide her time and spill everything when she was ready. The urgency was higher in the height of war, that was sure, but she _needed_ someone who was patient and kind and ultimately _better_ than she was socially to balance the constant battle she had in her skull. 

It was to her shame that she hadn’t treated Dommi well ever since she held Rhys in a coma for sixteen years in Vita Recta. On one hand, she could understand the woman’s concern – having Alex at barely seventeen had cut her whimsies in half – and if her husband was kept anywhere else, she would have positively flipped.

His scent lingered in her nostrils as she spoke. “Even if that future was with someone who led hundreds of people to war merely to prove a point, if so proven, could probably save the lives of countless others?”

“Yes, even that one.” 

The blonde grinned, kissing him again. She let the kiss continue, letting her hands roam all over Rhys’s back, gripping the hem of his shirt once she got to his waist. His tongue came into contact with hers, and she moaned softly in approval, tugging at his shirt. 

In a split second, Lena was on her back. She gazed hungrily at the ginger, who was now half naked, and quickly on the way to making her the same way, her shirt already on the ground. She giggled when he struggled with her bra clasp, something his transformation from school klutz to prima ballerina couldn’t quite fix.

“Why do you wear these things anyway?” he asked, sitting back on the bed between her legs.

She sat up and undid it herself, letting the piece of clothing fall onto the ground. “Because they help keep my boobs up. Hold on a second.” She found her war on the bedside table, pointed to her abdomen, and muttered the Contraceptive Charm. Warmth spread to her groin, signalling that it had taken effect.

“Are you ready?” Rhys asked. 

Lena grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him down onto the bed with her, her legs wrapped around his hips. Her hands were quickly unfastening the buttons on his shirt, and watching him shrug it off made her smirk. “Oh _yes.”_

* * *

_November 11 th, Year -3: The Black Swan, Port Durmstrang_

_Charles had saved up most of his month’s allowance in order to be sure that he could afford the most expensive of food here. He’d gotten some extra winnings when he won the numerous bets against him acquiring a date with the hard-to-get Dommi Wagner, which was the cause of twenty extra Galleons in his pocket._

_Unlike his peers, Charles was raised not to read books, but people. So to him, his date was an incredibly easy person to read._

_When she had shown up in the Entrance Hall, dressed in an elegant cocktail dress that brushed her knees, made her palm-sized breasts look flattering, and with a face caked with make-up. It was also obvious from her earlier days at Durmstrang that she straightened her hair more often the older she got, and the Hitrost could only think of the inconvenience her natural hair caused her in the mornings to be the lone sensible reason for doing so._

_“Are you ready, Chuck?” she asked, gently fluttering her lashes._

_The action made him want to laugh, but he couldn’t say that to a fragile sixteen-year-old. “Yeah, Dom. Let’s go.”_

_Getting the table at The Black Swan required a favour from a kind family member who worked there, and Charles had even pulled enough strings for him to be his waiter on the day as well. That meant that not only would he not be carded, the boy could get some proper wine with his meal, not the Butterbeer that would only go with the hearty British meals he’d rather have at home._

_When she entered the restaurant, Dommi looked awestruck. Her eyes wandered across the tall Grecian pillars with honour, oohing and aahing appropriately at the numerous paintings of Cupid and constellations Charles had learned about in his Astronomy lessons in his exchange year. Though the walls had an emphasis on black, it did not look macabre, managing to pull of an air of elegance that translated through the entire interior of the restaurant._

_Laurence Prentiss – a staunch supporter of Muggleborn rights – smiled lovingly at his half-cousin and his date. “On time for once, Chuck E. Cheese?” he asked, gazing at the clock. “Come. I’ll show you to your table.”_

_Dommi was still amazed, eyes widening at the elaborate arrangement of cutlery laid out on the table. “I’m sorry to ask, but how do I know which one to eat something with? I’m really sorry. I’ve never dined at a fine restaurant before.”_

_“That’s fine,” Laurence replied, glancing at his cousin with mirth in his eyes before returning his attention on his date. “Start from the outside and go inwards. If you can’t remember that I’m sure_ Chuck _here would be glad to remind you.”_

_“Thank you so much, um – “_

_“Laurence.” He smiled at the girl and she giggled. “Would you like to have the chef’s special or something else?” Dommi was about to open her mouth but Laurence continued before she could speak. “Charles here already mentioned that you’re allergic to shellfish.”_

_Charles shrugged his shoulders, his face turning a pale shade of red. His date giggled, thanking him profusely._

_The rest of their meal was arguably one of the best one Charles ever had in his life. The girl was a bit puzzled and overwhelmed by everything, but she kept the topics conversational and light, straying away from his family but talking non-stop about hers. She loved her brother – Kieran, after the Irish saint – and helping her Muggle parents in the café during summers. She liked romantic comedies and cares more for her friends than a sixteen-year-old girl should. Her eyes gleamed of wild dreams and movie scenes adapted and shuffled to fit in with today’s narrative._

_She found him genuinely funny, and kissed him after they left the restaurant. Her lips were warm and soft and_ light. _He swept her off her feet and his heart burned at how he didn’t reciprocate the emotion._

_Their walk back to Durmstrang was quiet, his arm wrapped around her shoulders to protect her from the infamous November chill. They continued to share the occasional glance, her eyes dutifully trained on his. Halfway back to the castle, Charles swore he heard the echo of footsteps in the alley, clutching the raven-haired Slushatel close to him._

_True to his suspicions, a blonde figure came out of the shadows, wand in hand. Chuck didn’t recognise her, pushing Dommi behind him. He brought his own wand out, quivering as he saw that the blonde was arguably_ taller _than he was, and probably better at duelling too._

 _“So_ this _is who you decided to bring along tonight?” she asked, her high-pitched voice oozing the mockery that Charles had long since learned to ignore. “Little Miss Sunshine? Liddy would feel so_ disappointed _if she knew that all she had to do to gain your full attention was to reduce herself to a stupid, giggly_ brat.” 

_The Hitrost blanched, telling his date to run away. She did, carefully making her way to a building at the edge of the street. Chuck could see her face peer out from behind it, and once he knew she was safe, he continued to face the blonde. “How do you know Liddy? And who are you?”_

_Cackling, the blonde was close enough to Charles so that he could see what lay beyond her eyes. It was something he knew all too well from his childhood, from remembering what his father did to a young eight-year-old, from remembering how he used to cry himself to sleep when he was at home._

_Pure hatred._

_“You_ still _haven’t figured it out, now haven’t you?” Her wand was immediately pointed to his chest. Charles staggered back, but she kept walking towards him. “You stupid, STUPID boy!”_

_That was when he bolted towards the castle, the blonde still on her tail. Wand still trained on his, she yelled, “Expelliarmus!” The cry became something that was repeated over and over again, and it was on the third or fourth try that Charles managed to get hit by the spell, his wand tumbling out of his hand._

_Despite the fact that her opponent was wandless, the blonde continued to fire spells at him. The Hitrost managed to reclaim his wand, yelling spells that he knew did no good against her, but distracting him long enough so he could grab Dommi and run._

_They both ran and ran and ran uphill back to Durmstrang, only to find halfway through that they were no longer being attacked. Gripping his date’s wrist like a vice, Charles turned around only to see the same blonde crying, her wand on the ground. Her brown eyes met his, and they seemed warm and_ familiar _to him somewhat, though he could not place it._

_“I – I’m so sorry,” she said, picking up her wand and running towards the Port._


	12. 3B: October 2080

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helsinki was strong, she thought. It can rebuild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i lost all my notes!!! brilliant!!!  
> (also i'm up until chapter 4d)
> 
> explicit, relatively plot-free first scene. to skip, go to the next horizontal line.

_October 14_ _th_ _, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters_

As most of the legal witches and wizards had gone to aid the fight in Helsinki, that left Dommi and Charles in charge of the children in the Headquarters. Since he never had to raise his own child, the conman found the influx of responsibility to be _confusing,_ for lack of a better word.

He and Dommi managed to have some time alone at lunch. The youngest children were with Grandpa Afonin and Grandma Ilyina – the two oldest people in the Headquarters – and all the elder children were still at school, so they were both quite sure that everyone was safe.

There was an old television set from the 2010s with a complete set of films to choose from. With Wizarding and Muggle movie production having stopped in the mid ‘50s in favour of the interactive plays that dominated Light Europe, they were looking at things that were truly out of fashion. Within minutes, Dommi was up to her knees in discs, trying to pick one that matched her tastes. She eventually picked one called _Ghostbusters._

Halfway through the movie, Charles began to yawn. Dommi scowled when he did, throwing a pillow in his face. “That was very, very rude of you,” she said, crossing her arms. Not once did her eyes deviate from the screen. It made Charles smile.

“I’m just _yawning,”_ the former Hitrost whispered, “it wasn’t like I straight out fell asleep in the middle of the movie.

“And now you’re _talking,_ Chuck,” she hissed, pressing her finger in front of her lips. Once there was silence except for the screen ahead of them, she rested her head on his shoulder, his arm around hers.

When the movie was done, the two of them quickly relocated to Room 5. The moment they entered, he’d pinned her up against the wall. His hands were in her hair, and her legs were tightly gripping his waist as her crossed ankles functioned as a vice. She moaned as his lips began trailing down her neck, her hands clumsily, tightly gripping his back, nails digging into his flesh.

His hands quickly grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it off her body with rusty yet practiced hands. Her hands removed themselves from his back, trembling as they tried to unbutton his shirt. He shrugged the fabric off with ease, and the petite woman had already begun to unbuckle his belt once his chest was fully bare.

Temporarily distracted from her activity, Dommi traced his chest, like every time they fucked. Unlike some others, he had remained relatively scar free – if only due to his reluctance to fight. Her tanned torso too was a blank canvas, though he could still see the stretch marks and stitches that came with pregnancy and a C section. He ran his hands over them, kissing each and every one of them in a clichéd attempt to worship her.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

The raven-haired woman smiled. “Do you really think that?”

The former Hitrost realised then that he had said it out loud. He hummed in agreement, his mouth latching onto a nipple. His tongue did three broad strokes over the taut bud before he spoke again. “And I’m quite happy to remind you of it too.”

He continued to experiment with her breasts, rolling one peak between his thumb and his index finger, still ravishing the other with his mouth. There was a clatter of metal on the ground before his cock suddenly felt cold. The sudden change in temperature was soon forgotten when a hand was wrapped around his hard length, stroking it with the heel of her hand in languid strokes.

“Bed, please,” Dommi pleaded, voice heavy with need.

Chuck was always a sucker for the magic word. His hand still wrapped around Dommi’s waist, she squealed when he spun swiftly, landing her body on the bed as gentle as a feather. She sighed in contentment as the soft mattress sunk around her, tilting her chin upwards to kiss him. After stripping the lower half of their bodies bare, her legs immediately wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. He smirked at the action, bending down to plant a garden of kisses along her inner thighs. She continued to tug at him, mewling.

“Eager, aren’t you?” Charles said, inhaling the scent of her sex. “You’ll get your reward, _Liebechen,_ but I want to play first.”

He heard her gasp when his tongue came into contact with her lips, his eyes looking upward for consent. She nodded curtly, and he gently pried them apart enough. His tongue gently swiped upward all the way from her slit to her clit, and she groaned at the contact. He did the same thing for several strokes, the speed increasing as he continued. When the heaving of her chests became more pronounced, he plunged two fingers into her, humming at the sensation. He repeated the action of his tongue with his finger, and she was almost screaming with pleasure.

“Chuck, I want you.”

“Hmm? What was that?” His fingers twitched.

She gasped. “I – want – you – _please.”_

Without much hesitation, Charles positioned his cock at her entrance, and moaned at the familiar feeling of those soft, silky walls: the only reason anyone ever had sex to begin with. He began moving slowly at first, the sound of their skin slapping heightening their arousal.

“ – please, more – “

“ – _fuck,_ Dom – “

“ – harder,   _please_ – “

Russet eyes met honey coloured ones. Dommi asked him, “Do you love me, Chuck?”

He stopped mid-thrust. “I think it’s a bit too early to say,” he said, “but I think I’m getting there.”

She exhaled. “That’s enough for me.”

He covered her mouth with his own, his hips reclaiming the rhythm they had fought hard to gain. His pleasure grew as her moans grew louder. In that moment, where nothing but making them come mattered, Charles thought that perhaps yes, he did love Dommi O’Malley again.

The thought had barely sunk into him when he felt it. The euphoria that came with this orgasm was dimmer than what he expected – he’d seen stars, once – but it was still fulfilling. A guttural groan left his lips, his hips still bucking into her, and her cry signalling orgasm on her end came soon after.

They spent the next several hours on her bed – _their_ bed – alternating between napping and observing each other. The only time Charles left the bed before dinner was to pick the teenagers from school in the disguise of his best friend’s ginger husband. He feigned interest in the several duels that seemed to be abundant in Docentrebis, knowing that with enough luck these kids too would know bloodshed in its final form.

* * *

  _October 13_ _th_ _, Year 20: 16ème arrondissement, Paris, France_

Perhaps it was the influence of the Light or lack thereof, but Paris was just as busy as Dylan remembered. Having visited the city on numerous occasions in his Exchange Year, he had no problems navigating the city on his own. While Taden was slightly discouraged from going outside, the scientist had no problem going downstairs and buying _un café, avec de sucre s’il vous plait_ every couple of hours, though he did wish Lora was here.

The absence of his wife stung Dylan, and the more he felt it, the more he smoked. Jakob’s long-term relationship (if it could be called such) with Beauxbatons professor Dewi Sampoerna pretty much ensured that he would receive a lifelong supply of the stuff, despite the fact that it was illegal in most places in the world. Though he missed the voice of his wife chiding him for taking up such a deadly habit, he found that voice slowly slipping away the more cigs he smoked.

That was terrifying.

Thankfully, the publishing house wasn’t far from where they lived. Most of the building was underground, taking up residence in the former Métro stops of Courcelles and Monceau. Taden quickly adjusted to the long hours of work, and Dylan often found him taking photos of the publishing process and gluing them to the pages of the scrapbook he was yearning to give to his wife.

This afternoon, he, Jakob and Julian was sitting outside on the balcony, watching the hordes of people below them as he and Jakob shared a cigarette. Inside the house, Taden too had the afternoon off and was talking awkwardly with the Rousseau children without mentioning his wife too often.

Dylan understood his pain too well.

“How are things at your end?” Jakob asked, “it’s been awhile since any of us has gotten an update.”

“Some people are thinking that you’re having a _peaceful_ moment,” Julian sniggered. “But we both know that peace doesn’t exist in war. Or life in general.”

“I agree,” Dylan replied, “the Light Queen had a baby a month ago and is going to battle in a couple of weeks. That’s war right there.”

Jakob raised an eyebrow. “A true Vorstenbach, Lena is,” he remarked. The Scientist knew that Lena’s father had begged him to marry her sister Heidi, but he had turned it down. He placed the cigarette between his lips, dragging it out for as long as he could. He then passed it on to Dylan. “And the baby? Is he or she okay?”

“Ana is under Dommi’s care. She’ll live.”

The Frenchman nodded, stirring the coffee that he’d put in stasis. He smiled as he found how warm it was. “It’s a bit unfortunate that you’re here instead of getting all the fun in Finland. I heard Finnish girls are pretty.”

“What?” Dylan asked, “and miss out on your pretty face? Of course not.”

Taden and the younger Rousseau – the name of whom Dylan could never remember – decided to join them on the balcony. In his hand, the younger blond clutched a bottle of Edmunds vodka close to his chest, taking a sip of it when his eyes came to contact with his mentor.

“I’ve never seen that before,” Jakob commented, amused. He turned to his friend, “And you said I’ve had a sample of every spirit this side of the Danube, Dyl.”

“It’s not the best tasting one,” Alaina said, “though it is quite impressive what one person can come up with all on their own.”

Julian raised an eyebrow at his daughter, while Jakob merely smirked. “Rumour has it the person who invented it used her own tears as part of the drink for she brewed it in a time of immense grief.”

“Ugh, gross.” Alaina grimaced, “Don’t worry, Papa. It tasted horrible. I don’t want to be near this stuff again.”

“I don’t blame you,” Taden smiled. He began unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. “It’s… an acquired taste. Alex used to sneak these out of the distillery because it was the only booze they had in Headquarters. We’d get sloshed: Vanka, me, Ellie and him.” His smile grew grave. “It reminds me of home.”

Dylan didn’t think the young man realised that he had switched to Russian. “He’s homesick,” he translated, his flawless French hiding his empathy for the young man, “which is understandable.” He took another drag of the cigarette. “I heard that you’re going to publish our pamphlets soon, Julian.”

“Might as well,” the Frenchman replied, “we shouldn’t make your stay any longer than it has to be. We hope that it will be just the news we need to shatter Russian support for the Dark Army.”

Taden said feebly, “I hope so, or all this would’ve been for nothing.”

Dylan knew why.

“Too bad they don’t have much more on the scientific method in Wizarding schools,” Alaina added, “I mean they have _something,_ but it’s something confined to those that are taking a Mastery.” She sighed. “What a shame. Maybe we could’ve wiped out blood supremacy by now if we knew what it was before we were twenty.”

“Most of these beliefs start when the children are as young as three,” Jakob replied, “so I’m afraid it would be a bit of a moot point to start at eleven.”

“Good point,” she bristled, “but if you’re going to go all out on these pamphlet things, I think you should give a talk in Beauxbatons. There are more Muggleborns there than not and I think they’d be happy to know that there’s a chance that they can do something good in the world despite what’s happening in the East.”

“That’s a great idea!” Taden grinned, somehow joyful enough to slip back into broken French again, “we need more scientists anyway, don’t we, Dylan?”

The Head Scientist gave a small smile. “Yes, yes we do.”

* * *

_04.50 October 30_ _th_ _, Year 20: Linnanmäki Park, Helsinki, Uusimaa, Finland_

Lena had been in the city for a week. The Finnish capital was a far cry from the holiday spot she and her family had frequented in her schooldays. The park had now grown to be a desolate spot, cobwebs visible at every turn. Ghosts of summers past clung to every corner: the screams from the gondola ride, the old Haloo Helsinki song that she always played only because of the name, how she held her brother’s hand every time they came near a loop-de-loop.

On her right, the Bellamys were having a lively conversation in Chinese. Despite the facade of dignity and certainty, she could easily discern their stony faced insecurity. She’d known Luke and Chara since they were at school, and their immense loyalty to the cause meant that they couldn’t do much to fool her. The former Uchitel ran off their names in her head: it was the one thing they asked for when they joined the cause, for these names to be immortalised. _Zhi Wei. Xing Cai. Cai Liang. Cai Xiu._

On her left, three of the Seven Devils were getting ready with their supplies. Rhys and Kaitlen’s presences were not required until later, leaving them safe to nap for a little bit longer in their tent. In charge of the first wave of explosions, Anya was frowning at the grenades she held in her hand, trying to remember which one went first. Frodo and Lora had their vials of Pepper Up Potion ready, choosing to spend their time listing all of the battles that led them up to this point.

There was something about seeing all of the children that she had a hand in raising with wands in their sleeves, faces painted red as blood, green as leaves, blue as sky. The feelings were nothing compared to Paris – they had all taken lives by now, so they were no longer children, perhaps – but they were still _there,_ her heart growing heavy.

She turned away. The clock struck five.

There was no final speech like she had done in Paris. Only a nod of her head and a glance into the city centre did the trick.

No time seemed to pass when Anya hurled the grenades in the general direction of the train tracks. The sky, still dark, began to fade to a kaleidoscope of red and green and blue and back again as the grenades detonated, shattering the city like thunder. The wind began to pick up speed, thanks to Lora and Frodo’s wind charms. The rainbow of colour began to move with serpentine grace towards the Parliament House, where she knew several Dark Soldiers were on their watch.

Thanks to Yusikova’s owl, she knew that none of the heavyweights would be in Helsinki tonight, and the woman even managed to station herself at the Parliament. Said heavyweights were the Sicarius brothers and Aleron Lestrange, and Charles had told her to create some damage before they had time to send Patronuses to Russia and send them in.

At Anya’s command, Ineesa and Ashley, concealed in the wind, began attacking the wards of the House. Their efforts were almost in vain when Yusikova sliced her thumb and a drop of blood fell on the perimeter of the building. It was with ease that the two young women disappeared inside.

Frodo and Lora’s wind charms were magnificent. The coloured powder was slowly becoming a tornado of wonder as it enveloped the Soldiers. Lora grinned at their combined creation while Frodo was firing off Killing Curses at some particularly _petulant_ Soldiers, his wand arm moving as smoothly as the weather phenomenon near to him. With enough luck, there would be no more for a while as they let their creation develop a mind of its own.

Still in Linnanmäki, Lena had perched herself on a particularly large tree, giving her a decent vantage point of the city. Some of the buildings were already beginning to crumble as her Light Army began to duel. She saw jets of red, darts of green, Vanka’s signature Reducto in the distance crumbling every single pillar or foundation it could get its hands on.

 _Helsinki was strong,_ she thought. _It can rebuild._

Right on cue, the home team made their move. A growing, thundering chant of ‘ _Suomi!’_ washed over the silent night like a tsunami. The sound of the first cannon ripped through the sky. The pace of Lena’s heartbeat began to spike as she saw exactly where she was headed, but when she saw two heads of blue hair run out of the building, it slowed considerably.

 _Eduskuntatalo_ was now a pile of rubble, a cradle for a ball of cement.

It was with bittersweet emotions that Lena watched the world stop before her. Most of the Dark Soldiers turned around to see their base gone, and now they had nowhere to run for cover. During their temporary halt in judgment, Lora and Frodo had let the hurricane go free for the whole world to bend to its will.

Then it turned to dust.

 


	13. 3C: October 2080

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeta O’Malley would be damned before she let anyone feel as helpless as she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, REV! the rest of Chapter 3 is made available to you and the public for your reading pleasure. thank you endlessly for putting up with me and my bullshit, and i am eternally grateful.
> 
> \- your girlfriend, rora

_ 06.40 October 30th, Year 20: Helsinki, Uusimaa, Finland _

The sunrise was still an hour away, and already the battle was going to shit.

Vanka knew that the moment the tornado disintegrated, starting a rain of powder that stung her eyes. From what little visibility she did have, she managed to transfigure a dead Soldier’s sash into a pair of sunglasses. 

Now that her eyes were reasonably protected, she decided to come closer to where the tornado had been. The ash that had once towered over them and held the attention of hundreds of soldiers was now a decaying pile on the ground, receding as the breeze blew them away like cherry blossoms in spring. Two figures stood atop the ash: one with raging flames and the other with an iciness that never failed to send shivers down her spine.

Jarlan and Donnica Lestrange.

_ Fuck _ , she thought.  _ There was no way they could have gotten word about this quickly. Not unless – _

Loyalties were rubber in war. She knew that. The only goal most people had was to come out alive and preferably unscathed. That was why they had spies all over the Dark Army to help them out. Of course there were spies hanging all over the Light – she wasn’t so thick as to dispute that – but one high enough to have possibly known about the tornado attack?

She swallowed her worries as she tried to make her way towards Alex. Within several steps, a Dark Soldier ambushed her. She quickly Stunned him and reduced him to ash with a silent Reducto.

Vanka had to sidestep a few duels in order to get to her intended partner, who had his hands full with three Dark Soldiers. She cast an Incarcerous on one of them, immediately grabbing the attention of one of the others so that he was free to duel with the last one on his own.

The other one was a tougher match, and one Vanka was glad to have. He lacked the ability to cast a non-verbal, since he just kept yelling his spells, and the blonde used that to her advantage, trying her best to keep her lips still. Her shields blocked his fearsome attacks with ease. She disarmed him, ensuring that his wand flew too far to run back to them, and ran to join her ex.

“Took you a while to get here,” he said, barely taking his eyes off his opponent.

Vanka rolled her eyes. Alex was not her Tandem partner, but they still worked effectively. She removed a revolver out of her pocket and aimed it at the man’s foot. It hit him and he screamed: a sound the blonde began to relish as she put the gun back in its sheath. She smirked at him before turning to her friend, staring at her wide-eyed.

“Lena said you could only shoot during emergencies.  _ Emergencies!”  _

“I think that saving your crusty ass definitely counts as one, Alex.” She patted his shoulders, positioning her body to an Orthodox stance when she saw Soldiers heading in their direction. 

“No time, love.” Her wand was poised and ready for battle. “We’ve got some bastards to kill.”

* * *

 

_ 07.00 _

Rhys cursed himself for letting Lena convince him to sleep in. He woke to find that news of the battle had  _ somehow  _ spread to Moscow fast enough for the Lestrange children to be sent here.

He knew that Lena was expecting their attack to be intercepted. He knew that she knew that they were going to be grossly outnumbered. He also knew that she knew that for once, she was going to lie low during the battle, pretend she wasn’t there and hope nobody on the wrong side found out.

_ Dammit Le. _

He and Kait were trying to find Frodo and Lora. It was a wonder that they managed to run for cover before the Lestrange children appeared at all, but the woman had always been reasonably quick – or at least quicker than Le is.

Two heads of blue hair danced their way into the forefront of his sight. Next to him, Kait heaved a sigh of relief. He could not bear to do the same until he found his friends alive and to live until the end of this battle with his wife in his arms, alive and kicking.

“Where the fuck could they have  _ gone?” _ the brunette next to him hissed. “Nick’s with Ellie, Le’s hiding, and – “

The unmistakable figure of Darke Krüger materialised out of thin air before them. Kaitlen cursed, and the two immediately began firing spells at each other. Thankfully, Rhys knew enough of his housemate’s fighting style to accompany her easily, ensuring that she was protected at all times when she was retreating.

When the duel between the two began to look too much like a fencing match – not like he knew much about how the Muggle sport worked anyway – Rhys ensured that Kait was in a good position before he cast a Patronus charm, his little Hippogriff dancing across the duel straight at Darke.

Knowledge of Darke’s less than human status made him putty in the ginger’s eyes; he’d always been good at Battle Strategies and most people knew it. Little Emrys slowly enveloped him with a childlike curiosity that made him impossibly like the man, and Darke groaned in pain. Kait struck the man with a painfully bright spell that made Rhys flinch.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, gripping his wrist. They wanted to run back to base, to save Lena, but there was a familiar head of soft, dark golden brown hair several yards away from them. Next to that head was another, this time with cinnamon hair tied up in an elaborate bun.

“FRODO! LORA!”

Kait dashed towards them, pointing her wand up at the air and creating some small fireworks with the tip of her wand. The ginger was thankful for his grace as he accompanied his friend through the crossfire, managing to cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm as she made her way over to them.

The four of them soon met up, but there was no time for a reunion.

“Oy!” someone called, “Someone call the Dark Lord! We have the Seven Devils here.”

“Fuck,” Kait hissed, “where’s our blasted Queen?”

“Hiding, as usual,” Rhys growled, “they know us far too well even  _ in  _ our protective garb.”

“Your hair’s a dead giveaway,” Frodo remarked, “no hat this morning, of  _ all  _ mornings?”

“I think I left my beanie on the ship,” the ginger quipped.

A horde of Dark Soldiers descended on them, their feet galloping like horses. Kait was already on it, firing off Stupefies and Expelliarmus spells that left Frodo and Rhys more time to think. Rhys struck an Incendio at one of their robes, and their close proximity to each other made the fire catching. The Soldiers shrieked, some of them rushing to Aguamenti the fire shut, leaving the gap wide open for the Devils to take their leave. As they ran, Alora protected them, several green darts of light bouncing off her shield. Frodo and Kait were taking turns casting Killing Curses.

“Where’s Anya?” Rhys asked. His three companions shrugged. The ginger then fired a Bat Bogey Hex at another Soldier who was charging at them, and it seemed to work spectacularly as the guy was fighting his flying boogers.

“I don’t think we have time to find her,” Lora frowned, “I think we need to get that whole Operation DagNia thing executed and done with before they arrive.”

Kait nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

_ 09.00 _

Ellie didn’t know how much longer her endurance could stretch. Her head was still stuck in that picture thirty minutes prior, when the largest crack she’d ever heard told her that the Dark Lord and Lady were here.  _ So theatric,  _ she thought,  _ just like their children. _

The German Runic Shield that Nicholas was helping her achieve would not last much longer, and it would certainly not be long enough to rush Chara back to base.

She didn’t know how Chara managed to get  _ half  _ a Sectumsempra on her, but the spell was already making her bleed profusely. Most of the slices were deep and without the quick thinking of the two Healer trainees, their fellow Army member should’ve been dead five minutes ago.

“Can you hold it for thirty seconds?” Ellie asked.

“I’ll try my best,” Nick replied, “that’s all I can go with, I’m afraid.”

The young woman simply nodded. The younger said  _ ‘Vulnera Sanentur’ _ three times, begging Merlin not to let anyone from their side die yet. Chara’s scream curdled her blood. She almost swelled into tears when she saw that most of the spell’s effects were gone; Chara’s expression had gone from one of agony to her usual lacklustre expression.

“We have to go  _ now _ , El,” Nick said, lifting Chara’s body in his arms. Ellie clutched onto his arm and they all Apparated to their safe zone in Linnanmäki.

The two younger members were thankful that they had Apparated enough times in the past to land securely on their feet. A Healing pack zoomed down from the tops of the trees. She immediately looped the bag around her waist, looking up to find nobody there.

“You’ll be scarred but okay,” Ellie said, turning her attention back to the injured woman, keeping her tone level. She applied Dittany to most of the wounds, wrapping everything up with a bandage. “Get some rest,” she whispered, “I know it’s hard, but the twins are smart. I’m not saying they’ll make it but please, you need to rest.”

What compelled her to make such a pessimistic statement, Ellie didn’t know. The woman on the ground still remained stoic in expression, something she could never understand. Nick held her hand as they Disapparated back into the front lines of battle, leaving Chara behind with a crack.

Her companion had already moved in another direction when she found her bearings, so she raced back to her station several hundred metres away. She was lucky enough that she dodged a few attacks in her path, though a misdirected Stunning Spell did throw her off course.

Ellie cursed herself as she dusted herself off the ground, hiding behind a pillar that had once been part of Parliament House to close her wounds. The skin of her forehead was almost gone, she knew. She hissed as she applied more Dittany on her skin, trying not to let her discomfort show as she rushed back out into the fighting.

Cornelia found her behind the pillar, trying to find a spare moment to breathe. “Are you okay, El?”

She couldn’t help but lie when she replied with, “Yes, I most definitely am.”

The younger woman bit her lip. “I’m scared. What do I do?”

The Healer trainee sighed, knowing that the only just thing to do  _ now  _ was to get to the southern side of the city, where she should be. There was no reason why she couldn’t take the young girl with her, and two heads was always better than one.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be?” she asked. Cornelia shook her head. “Then come with me. I’ve done this before. We should be fine.”

Because Elizabeta O’Malley would be damned before she let anyone feel as helpless as she did.

* * *

 

_ October 17th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters _

It was a good day at Headquarters, if only it was because it’s Charles’s birthday. The children, who didn’t know much about his involvement as a Dark Soldier, baked him a cake and had a little party in the Dining Hall for him.

Grandma Ilyina smiled and told him how much the children liked how attentive and eager he was to listen to their stories at night, how easily he got along with most of them. They liked him, she said, why wasn’t he around more?

That was no question Chuck could answer, not properly. It was his thirty-ninth birthday and the first one he felt good celebrating. No one had ever cared for it in school except for Lena, and in the Dark Army birthdays were a thing of the past. He’d even gotten some presents these years, most of which included portraits of him drawn with various degrees of artistic licence.

_ At least I can tick ‘get a portrait drawn of myself’ off the bucket list. _

Dommi had celebrated along with him, helping him engage in polite conversation and using her sunny disposition to get him out of anything he wasn’t comfortable with. The Hitrost alumnus mused that for all the things the War had managed to change, it didn’t change her social smarts at all.

After the kids had gone to take their naps, Charles and Dommi were alone in the Great Hall, sharing a bottle of wine. The grandparents shrugged off their attempts at helping them out with the youngsters, but they told them that love was fleeting in war, that they should make the most of the time they had. (They also said they’d pay later anyway, but in what manner, Charles didn’t know.

They both understood that sentiment, though in vastly different (though not completely dissimilar) ways.

“So,” Dommi asked, “how did you spend your birthday last year?”

Charles frowned, “Well, it was a complete failure compared to this.”

That was true. This time last year, he’d been pining over a girl who was dead for  _ three  _ years – but something picked at him saying that she  _ wasn’t,  _ and that caused most of his nightmares pre-captivity – and spent the night pretending he wasn’t bothered by Lucifer’s perverse talk and the bedroom eyes Darke and Jaelyn kept sending each other across the room.

And on that note: Merlin, how  _ thick  _ is Lucifer?

There were many things about the Dark Army that Charles wanted to tell his girlfriend (thirty-nine and still  _ antsy  _ about putting labels on his relationships) but he felt  _ wrong  _ talking about them.

“Huh,” she said, “they’re not big on parties in the Dark Side?”

“Unless you’re a Lestrange or a member of the Inner Circle – of which I am  _ not  _ – no one throws you a party. You get a pat on the back and you get on with the rest of the day.”

“Wow, Chuck. Still sucking at the whole infiltrating into social circles thing, huh?”

“Perhaps,” he sighed, “I’m sure it’s because I don’t fancy a duel everyone tells me a your mum joke, and the fact that I sullied myself with the likes of you, or at least enough to have a child with you.” His eyes widened at what he just said, too far into Donnica Lestrange’s mindset to leave before he could, “Oh shit, I’m sorry – “

“No, I know you don’t mean it,” she replied, “I know you don’t think I’m… beneath you – Healing doesn’t work without science – but it’s so difficult to get over all those years of those beliefs being stuck down your throat.”

His breath caught. She was right, and he made no move to speak.

“Do you know why there were so few Muggleborns in Durmstrang, Chuck? We had to take  _ tests  _ about what it was like to survive in the Wizarding world. We had to know its currency, general laws, customs. It was like they put it there so there would be no Muggleborns because they knew that they would all fail. You were around when half our class could barely tell Knuts and Sickles apart and  _ they  _ were raised in the Wizarding world.” A tear began to form and Charles placed an arm around her.

“The only reason that I ever passed the test was because I started showing early and someone in my neighbourhood noticed and they were a witch too. A proper pureblood witch that knew how admissions worked and liked me enough to make sure I got in.”

“Haze,” Charles whispered. She nodded.

“She moved the world for me,” she said, wistful, “she sponsored me so that I wouldn’t have to attend the Gymnasium in Hanover. She told me, ‘You’re brilliant, Dommi. You deserve only the best.’ So she worked her arse off, making me spend entire summers with her so I could learn how things worked. And… and I loved her for it. She loved me too.”

Her lips trembled. “So I joined the Light Army the moment I could because I thought I could fend for myself, and I can. I do it by saving others and that I’m perfectly okay with. You don’t notice it, maybe, but everyone making the most important decisions of this war is a pureblood with vaults and vaults of money to their name.

“I understand their intentions, and I know that you can’t change much unless you influence the ones in power, but I thought that as an actual living, breathing  _ Muggleborn _ – the very  _ people  _ this war is  _ about  _ – I’d get more say in this. I expected my views to be  _ respected  _ and  _ heard. _ But do you know how much input I had since the war started? Zero. Nada. Zilch.

“My only opportunity came when Rhys was attacked. I kept him  _ safe  _ and out of harm’s way for  _ sixteen years.  _ Do you know how Lena repaid me? Constantly ignoring me until  _ her husband  _ had to scold her, lectures on secrecy, blatantly leaving out me out on missions… the list goes on, Chuck.” Her fingers curled into a fist as she inhaled, unfurling as she exhaled.

Charles could do nothing but squeeze her hand.

“Calling the war a fight for Muggleborn rights would be scratching the surface. The tip of the iceberg.” he said, “It’s never been about equality, not really.”

“You don’t say.” She wiped the tear from her face. “I – I’m sorry for being such a downer on your birthday.”

“You’re not being a downer, Dom,” Chuck smiled, holding the woman close to him. “You have every right to feel the way you feel.” He kissed her forehead. “Wanna watch a film?”

Dommi laughed, and it was light as leaves. “Sure.”


	14. 3D: October 2080

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This looks very… 80s. 1980s.”
> 
> “Is that bad?”
> 
> “That depends. Is your target audience a hundred years old?”

_ October 19th, Year 20: von Bergen & Rousseau Headquarters, Paris, France _

“Are you sure that that’s your final design?”

“Yeah,” Taden nodded.

Jakob raised an eyebrow. “This looks very… 80s. 1980s.”

“Is that bad?”

“That depends. Is your target audience a hundred years old?”

Burying his head in his hands, the blond shook his head. “Oh Merlin, it’s horrible, isn’t it?”

“I’m not saying it’s horrible, but it could definitely do with some… tweaking.” He placed the tip of his wand on the page, and various elements of the page began rearranging themselves.

Taden’s eyes widened. “Wait, you can  _ do  _ that?”

“I went to the Magical Department in Central Saint Martins when I graduated from Durmstrang,” Jakob explained, “unlike you, I was lucky enough to earn a degree and have something resembling a life before it was taken from me.” He cleared his throat. “Oh what? Yeah, you can do that. I can teach you if you want.”

“Really?” The blond looked at the piece of paper, now coloured. The heading was worded much better than he could ever attempt to do in a decorative font that wasn’t too hard on the eyes. The sentences Taden had spent hours trying to write were somehow simplified into short succinct bites of information easy for five-year-olds to take in. “I’d love to learn,” he said finally. “It’s not as useful as hexes and counter curses but I’ll take it.”

Jakob gave the young man a smile. “You’d have made a formidable Uchitel, just like that Queen of yours,” he said wistfully, “and without all that ambition and haughtiness screwing you over I’m sure you’d be cultivating your intelligence as a scholar as opposed to fighting.”

“But Dylan  _ is  _ cultivating me, or as much as he can.” Taden gave an uneasy chuckle. “I sometimes wish that I didn’t get sucked into it – the war, I mean – but I just want to do what’s  _ right.  _ And excluding a group of people for their heritage isn’t it.”

“No, it isn’t. Say, how did you get involved in all of this in the first place?”

The blond flushed. “M – my wife.”

Jakob patted his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve already learned this by now, but if there’s anything the war managed to get rid of, it’s the notion that females are the lesser gender. Lena Edmunds leads the charge on the Light, and without Ksenia Lestrange’s political astuteness her husband would be dead. They will be the victors, not us men.” He Summoned a glass of red wine and took a sip. “Your wife is a hell of a dueller, or so I’m told, and would you call my sister terrifying?”

“Miss Magda  _ was  _ terrifying yes, and the one that drove us wasn’t the kindest either.”

It was Jakob’s turn to give a chuckle of his own. “I should have certified  _ which  _ sister. I mean Hazelle.”

“Mrs. Bellamy? Oh,  _ scary.  _ Ellie dyed Cornelia’s – or was it Cordelia’s – hair green and she was a  _ mess  _ for  _ days.” _

“Hazelle did have a bit of a reputation for bossing people around to get what she wanted. I suppose that if it wasn’t for her, Durmstrang wouldn’t have had its first Muggleborn student pass the entrance exam in a century.”

Taden’s lips went dry. “Healer O’Malley?”

He gave the boy a curt nod and decided that there were many things that had been left out about their pasts, but what happened between Haze and Dommi had occurred thirty years ago and there were too many things to be considered  _ now  _ for him to sit down and tell fairy tales. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. We’ll become impossibly late if we don’t print these out soon.”

* * *

_ October 25th, Year 20: Paris, France _

“It’s only been six days and people in  _ Italy  _ have heard of it.”

Dylan tried his best not to roll his eyes at the young protégé. “Had Daggerbutt not so _violently destroyed the_ _Internet_ we would’ve spread the news to _America_ in _half a day.”_ He sighed, “Is the man _bent_ on sending us back to the Middle Ages?”

“He doesn’t like Muggle technology in the slightest, so perhaps,” Taden replied. “You know, I’ve had dinner with him and he’s not quite the violent madman you’re all making him out to be.”

“A bit difficult to believe when you’ve spent  _ seven years  _ in school with him watching him  _ become  _ a violent madman.”

“He was seventeen. Anyone can be a madman at seventeen. I can even assume that my own wife was a madwoman at seventeen – “

“ – please don’t bother. I’m not in the mood to sympathise with someone who’s trying to kill my friends, thanks.” His clipped tone served as a warning that this conversation was over or so help him. “But really, tell me. In what ways is he not a violent madman?”

“He eats with a knife and fork, and he says please and thank you. Makes eye contact with people when he speaks.”

“And those are the marks of a man fit to rule over the next generation of European wizards. My grandparents have never touched a fork in their lives, but I would not go as far as to call them  _ uncivilised. _ ”

Taden exhaled. “I – I didn’t mean that. I just… it’s a bit disconcerting to suddenly have to think of him as a madman all of a sudden when I practically grew up with him.”

“But somehow screwing around with our Vanka – a blood traitor, they call her – wasn’t much of a problem.” The man’s tone grew firm. “And it’s not ‘all of a sudden’, Taden. You had four years to back out of it.” He exhaled, running his hand through his hair before picking up a letter. “I am quite amused at the amount of fan mail we’re getting.” He used a Slicing Hex to cut the envelope open, read the letter, and cringed at its contents. “’You go girl?’ We’re not girls. We’re boys.”

The blond spent some time choosing his words before settling on them. “I don’t think they care. We didn’t publish our names on the pamphlet so it’s not like they can make accurate assumptions about our gender.” He sighed, opening up another letter and looking rather confused by it. “I don’t know what this says.” The blond passed the piece of paper to his Professor.

Dylan scanned the paper, his face souring as the meaning of the contents dawned on him. With an underarm throw, he threw the crumpled letter into the fireplace. “Thank Merlin you don’t read French.”

* * *

 

_ October 28th: Calais, France _

Taden wasn’t sure what to expect when Dylan and Jakob had taken them to the seaside town for a little trip. France was as free as it could get – from both the Dark and the Light’s clutches – and any trace of the terror that had once gripped the country didn’t show in how the sea lapped against his feet, ushering him deeper.

It had been a while since Taden had seen the ocean. He had never been overly fond of it in the first place, but in visits with his family he had always found interesting people with stories that would stretch beyond his limited imagination. He’d collected stories of lost loves and a painting that illustrated what the beach was like before the War, when those that frequented it were as golden as the sand.

“We’re going to go to Beauxbatons soon, right?” he said, throwing a pebble into the sea. It skipped once, then twice, then dove into the blue. “Isn’t it all the way across the country?”

“Yes,” Jakob replied, “and I’m just trying to get as close to England as humanly possible without having to cross the Channel.”

“But I thought you can’t cross the Channel.”

The older man raised a brow, taking a drag of his cigarette. “You can, but you know Britain,” he said, his tone dry of humour, “the government loves being an isolated island as much as they hate immigrants.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn’t make much of a difference whether they’re Muggle or wizard.”

Taden couldn’t say very much; if there was one thing Dylan and Jakob had managed to do it was constantly remind him that he knew very little about how the world worked. They weren’t wrong, but he wished that he had something to contribute to the conversation. All he could do was listen, and now he understood why Ellie grovelled so much during meetings.

The blond had never been to Britain, which he found both depressing and a relief, considering what happened to his ancestral homeland. When many wizards attempted to relocate  _ back  _ into the tiny island, they had said no and his family was now Russian.

It wasn’t as if Taden had any problem with that – Merlin, of course not – but he wished he could be of more use. In war, he learns, people are dispensable even if they counted, but only as one more body towards the opposing side.

Returning to the car where they stationed all of their items, Taden put himself inside, his body taking up the whole of the back seat. He had his note cards in hand: on them, several translations from Russian to French filled the majority of the paper, and on little sporadic corners, like dots on a Pollock painting, were the sentences that needed to be said.

The great thing about dots was that one could easily expand them. And that was what Taden did.

* * *

 

_ 10.40 October 30th, Year 20: Helsinki _

Lena and Rhys had been reunited soon after Dagareth and Ksenia’s arrival to the battlefield. The ginger had all but shook his wife out of her hiding spot – a rollercoaster near the southern entrance of the park – saying that she shouldn’t hide for so long or their army would be slaughtered. She’d retorted with the fact that  _ he  _ wanted her hidden because at least  _ one  _ of them had to return to Ana when the battle was over.

In their massacre of Dark Soldiers, they could hear Hazelle’s angry shriek from several blocks away. They found out later that she had killed her brother Karl, and Lena had to empathise; her sister had taken the side of the Dark Lord and she too would kill her without mercy.

Even if her sister  _ hadn’t  _ been on her side, killing her would not be much of a loss.

The Edmunds's were catching their breath behind the same rollercoaster Lena had chosen to hide behind. Lena had put a stasis charm on a jug of coffee she made the night before. Each of them took a shot of it and sat until she could feel the Notice Me Not Charm wear off.

“So Karl von Bergen is dead, all four Lestranges are still alive, and we know for sure that there’s a mole around here somewhere.” The blonde growled. “I can’t _believe_ I’m saying this, but Chucklefuck’s right. Our plan is working.”

“If I were Prentiss and I did spend twenty years with these guys, I’d like to think I got  _ some  _ things right. But he didn’t get  _ everything  _ right.”

“It’s a battle, Rhys. He’s not going to get everything right.”

“Chucklefuck is an idiot. There’s not much that he can get right.”

_ “Rhys,”  _ Lena warned, “we have two minutes until the charm wears off and  _ this  _ is what we choose to get in an argument about? If I can let go about Valerie bloody Greenway you can forget about Chuck for  _ one  _ second – ”

“Oh wow, Lena, you actually  _ forgave  _ someone – “

“ – she’s  _ dead,  _ Rhys. Of course I let go.” She exhaled, holding her husband’s hand. “I have another plan. One that will potentially go awry.”

“Merlin, what is it?”

The blonde stood up and grabbed her husband’s wrist. “We have to go find Anya first.”

His eyes widened. “Le,  _ what is the meaning of this?” _

“Well, as you know, love, Anya owns a bookshop full of antique volumes in Hanover – “

“No time.” Lena could practically feel herself being noticed as her husband spoke. “We must go.”

_ 11.20 _

Over in the distance, where no one seemed to notice anything, a sphere the size of a tennis ball landed where the Parliament House used to be. There was a loud bang as it exploded into Fiendfyre, the crackling flames beginning to engulf the battlefield.

When the flames began to leave the safety of the Parliament, they stopped as quickly as it came.

_ 11.28 _

“Did everyone make it out of there alive?” Luke asked, brushing his forehead clear of sweat. He heaved a sigh of relief when Ineesa and Ashley came to view.

“I haven’t seen the twins in  _ hours,”  _ Ashley said solemnly, “and Nick and Ellie split up when Chara got injured.”

The man ran his hands through his hair. The two young women had found him very early on in the day, and though he didn’t mind the blunt, oft amusing commentary they provided in battles he  _ did  _ wish that if he got stranded with someone it was someone with more battle experience.

There were already some Ashwinder eggs from the ashes, and that immediately made Luke’s skin crawl. “Let’s  _ leave,”  _ he whispered to the two women, and they did not hesitate, though Ineesa almost snickered at the slightly terrified expression on his face.

“I’m sorry Mr. Bellamy,” she replied, “Kait’s a Parseltongue, so – “

“I have known you for  _ twenty years,  _ Ineesa,” the man hissed. “And your mother for way longer, so I understand how my situation may  _ amuse  _ you. But we’re not in a good position to make fun of anyone, let alone – “

Luke wondered why on earth he ever wondered to go on his long tirades when people tended to abandon him in the middle of them. Ineesa was already flirting with yet another of the Dark Soldiers, her hand skimming their sides before Stunning them without a wand. He had grown familiar with the children of the Seven Devils yet their eccentricities continued to surprise him.

“How on earth did you do that?” Ashley asked in wonder, dragging another Soldier and dropped him on top of the one Ineesa had immobilised. “Nick said Kait hasn’t even taught him wandless magic yet.”

“But he’s never been a quick study, now has he?” the elder of the two said proudly, “and I am almost three years older than him, mind you.” She grinned when the Dark Soldier exploded to a million pieces, the parts of her scattering into the air like dust. “I think we should get a move on, Mr. Bellamy. We don’t have much time to recover.”

_ 12.32 _

Ellie was pretty sure that out of  _ everyone  _ she’d ever met, ever, that she had had the  _ worst  _ luck out of anyone. Ever.

Cornelia had spotted Jarlan Lestrange from a mile away, and it was difficult  _ not  _ to. He was Apollo, essentially: a younger, more handsome duplicate of his father that would take over his reign of terror when the time came. His blond hair had grown long since the last time Ellie had seen him, tying it in an effortless bun with wisps of hair framing his face.

The worst part of it all was that  _ he  _ managed to spot  _ her,  _ so whether she liked it or not she had to duel him or Cornelia would  _ die _ . She rushed the younger woman away from the scene and told her to retreat to the Queen’s tree. Promptly, she ran away, leaving the Healer trainee to deal with the Dark Prince on her own.

“You’re in quite the state,  _ Elizabeta,”  _ he said, approaching her. He cupped her chin in his palm, stroking her cheek free from dirt. She flinched, stepping backwards. The way he lingered on every syllable of her given name made her spine shiver. “There’s a bit I can do to help you clean up.

“W – Why haven’t you killed me yet?” she asked meekly. Admittedly, she would be nothing but a toy for him; only Vanka had duelling skills that could parallel his in their peer group. Her face hardened, creasing into a scowl. “And I do not need any cleaning up. I am  _ not  _ filthy.”

“You’re a half-blood,” he said, his voice almost  _ purring,  _ something that made her gulp. “You are so very,  _ very  _ filthy.”

She pushed him away from her, brandishing her wand in his face. “I might be a  _ horrible  _ dueller, but Merlin  _ forbid  _ that I go down without a fight.”

He took his wand out of his pocket. “So you want to play dirty then, Elizabeta _.  _ So be it.”

Thank  _ Merlin  _ Ellie had mastered the art of the wordless Protego because she managed to have her shield up by the time he sent a rain of curses in her direction. She was also thankful that her shield was actually of  _ some  _ use against him. Come to think of it, she might as well count her blessings before her shield breaks and she dies a lonely death in the battlefield.

But then he stopped firing.

Ellie was quick, but he was quicker. She knew that much.

Her Protego was obviously better, but she can’t just cast it up again; she’d be too drained too quickly. Firing a Stunning spell in his direction, she cast her shield again, flawlessly flicking her wand to deflect his curses. He kept smirking at her, taunting her with those filthy, _filthy_ words: things that made her grit her teeth and she swore to Merlin that she must survive just to get that _stupid_ smirk off his face.

“You’re so  _ pretty  _ when you try to fight me off like that, “ the man taunted, firing an Impendimenta at her foot. She reacted quickly, jumping over it like she was playing Double Dutch. Hurling some Stunning spells did not seem to stop him, as his wand moved seamlessly to stop them.

She could feel his face inch closer and closer towards her with every spell, his legs crossing leagues with every stride. There got to a point where their bodies hovered over one another like magnets with like poles forced together. Her breath hitched, beads of sweat tainting the creases of coloured dust that had formed on her face.

But Ellie was pretty and filthy and  _ strong  _ all at once, and so she did what any girl trapped by an intimidating man would do. Kiss him.

Jarlan’s lips were hard, stilled at first, but once they responded it was a hell of a kiss if she ever had one. It was a battle in the middle of battle: his hands went nowhere near her but it felt as if they  _ had,  _ a glorious contrast of his fiery kiss and the cool Finnish autumn overwhelming her. It was obvious that he intended to  _ bruise  _ her and though she didn’t find the sensation of it  _ uncomfortable  _ she still did not intend to shag him in the middle of battle.

Ellie jabbed her wand on his chest, effectively breaking their kiss.

Jarlan’s face was slightly flushed as someone who has been kissed so often was, but there was no hint of the kiss on his face. His trademark smirk was plastered in place.

“That was a hell of a parley if I’ve ever seen one,” Jarlan drawled. “Though I hope you don’t try and use it on me again. It’s a horribly ineffective method.”

“Caught you off guard for a second though,” Ellie said, trying to match his smirk, “and that was  _ all  _ I needed.”

She had already put up a shield by the time he threw his first curse at her. They returned to their fencing match, with her shield holding up well against his attacks. Thank Merlin she had paid so much attention to him during their schooldays; it had actually come in handy in battle, and not for the first time.

Jarlan fired a Slicing Hex when someone managed to Stun him from behind, leaving him to fly through the air. Ellie managed to dodge the spell, but did not avoid Jarlan’s disarming spell. Her vine wand darted away from her. Before she could grab it, the man landed on her, and they both landed with a thud on the ground.

The person who must’ve attacked him grabbed her wand, and Ellie looked up at them to hiss in protest. Her eyes widened when she saw a familiar blonde, sporting sunglasses she never knew she had.

“Good job, El,” Vanka smiled, pocketing her best friend’s wand. She turned to her enemy, pointing her wand at his chin. “You will get off her  _ right now,  _ and you will  _ walk away  _ and  _ leave her alone.” _

Jarlan sprang from the ground, his back straight as a metal rod. Still on the ground, Ellie’s breath stopped as he stepped closer and closer to Vanka. From a distance, Vanka was only half a head shorter than he was. Their faces were dangerously close, enough for lips to touch if she craned her neck high enough.

He merely grunted before he walked off, silent, barely sparing a glance back at them. “This match isn’t over, O’Malley!” he taunted, and Ellie could feel the heat of his smirk burning into her forehead.

When Vanka lent a hand to help her, Ellie took it, feeling her body being tugged by the taller blonde.  When she was on her feet, her wand was handed back to her and she smiled at her best friend, who looked positively worried.

“Did he hurt you?” Vanka asked in a hushed voice. Ellie shook her head and the other girl heaved a sigh of relief. “Well, he must have done  _ something  _ for you to look so terrified.”

“He looked like he was going to  _ kill  _ you,” Ellie said, the lie grating her skin. “Of course I was terrified.”

“You were scared for me?”

“Of course I was scared for you.” The blonde looked  _ far  _ too shocked for her liking at that revelation. “You’re not invincible just because you can wield weapons.” Ellie was thankful that no one managed to walk in on them just yet. “You’re my best friend. It’s my job to worry about you.”

Vanka smirked. “You sound like äiti.” 

“You’re saying that like it’s a  _ bad  _ thing.”

The blonde twirled her wand and grabbed her friend’s hand. “We should go take down some Dark Soldiers.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “You are  _ far  _ too enthusiastic about this.”


	15. 3E: October 2080 + Flashbacks

_ September 7th, Year 11 _

_ Ivanka observed her reflection in the mirror. Her long blonde hair was tied in the tight Dutch braid only Lena seemed to perfect. Her school uniform had been ironed and pressed, and she’d dusted off any creases that made her look less than Lena Vorstenbach’s adopted daughter. _

_ Ellie’s hair was also braided, but in that complicated way Dommi seemed to do it that made it look like she had clumps of hair instead of strands. It didn’t make her look any less neat or professional like she so often fretted about, because her clothes were also ironed and pressed to perfection. _

_ Thank Merlin for Hazelle Bellamy’s Dry Cleaning Services. _

_ Alex had waited for them by the door, his school tie not even knotted properly. Nessie was talking to him, her skirt  _ way  _ shorter than the dress code allowed, her nametag reading ‘Nessie’ where ‘Ineesa’ should be. Her hair was tinted blue at the edges, perhaps the result of playing with a Sharpie for way too long. Vanka couldn’t stop herself from admiring both of them: they were both older than she was and both so handsome. _

_“You are going to_ kill _Professor Hansoff,” Alex remarked of the girl’s outfit. “If she didn’t like_ _us so much I think you’d have been dead already.” He turned away from the girl for a moment to acknowledge the blonde. “All ready, Vanka?”_

_ “You bet,” the blonde replied, her cheeks red. He offered his arm, and she looped hers around his with no complaints. When she did so, Ellie giggled behind her. Rolling her eyes, Vanka decided to ignore her best friend and decided to focus her attention on listing the items in her backpack. _

_ The way too school was dull, but Vanka couldn’t deny that the Institute was a magnificent building. Unlike what she heard of Hogwarts, the school was built with zero protection and with a thankful lack of moving staircases. Äiti had told her that it was only fair that the school served as neutral ground between the Dark and Light. Perhaps it was because she and Ksenia Lestrange (then Sokol) had been passionate about education and both insisted that regardless of their rivalry, school was the one thing that they should not fight about. _

_ Vanka had heard stories about how the school had tried to set up unity between both sides, but ended up being a cesspool of rivalries that had all to do with your birth. It didn’t help that the first children from the Light Queen and the Dark Lord were both starting school this year. _

_ To be honest, Vanka didn’t know whether to be scared or excited. She knew Donnica and Jarlan were going to be tough competition, and her only hope was to keep up with them and make Äiti proud. She knew lots of spells and plenty of combat skills – she’d acquired her wand at the age of seven – but she wondered if it was enough to stay one step ahead of the Lestranges. _

_ Even then, she knew it wouldn’t be smart to show them all the things she knew. And she was sure they would do the same. _

_ Her first impression of Jarlan as she entered the Great Hall was that he looked like a manipulative brat, a complete arse, but Vanka was sure that he would grow into his father as he aged. His smirk made the blonde’s neutral facial expression turn sour, but it seemed to do the exact opposite to Ellie as a smile bloomed on her face. _

_ He was sitting next to his sister, who was blatantly showing little attention to the Headmaster as she blew a bubble. She chewed with her mouth open, her feet propped up on the table. Her blonde hair must have been combed yet they had somehow become unruly in the space between leaving home and coming to school. Vanka was no uptight girl, but Merlin forbid she ever showed such disrespect to an authority figure. It didn’t matter if it was her uncle or her mother. Respect for authority was important. _

_ Alex tugged her away from the Dark children and sat her down on the table littered with various associates she’d known over the years. The Krums sat on their side of the Hall. Vanka’s fist curled at the sight. They had only pledged their allegiance to Lumen de Lucerna only recently, and Äiti remained highly distrustful of them. _

_ Their first day continued without any flair, but Vanka was not disappointed. _

* * *

_ December 2nd, Year 11: Docentrebis Institute, Ground Floor _

_ Ellie sighed as she cast several Healing spells all over Vanka’s face. The blonde was relieved that even if she returned home bruised and battered, she wasn’t bleeding.  Scabs were practically tattooed on her legs at this point. Her scabby knees were a grisly shade of red and it came as a surprise to many that she had yet to break any bones during the course of the school year. _

_ Donnica grinned as she stood over both girls, hands on her hips. “You can’t even take care of yourself, Vorstenbach,” she sniffed. Like her classmate, she sported a black eye. “How pathetic of you. I thought mummy dearest taught you better.” _

_ After Vanka gave her a curt nod, Ellie nodded and moved away from them as lookout. “She did,” the blonde taunted, her hand already moving for her wand. “At least I have enough balls to fight you on my own without the use of pigheaded lackeys.” She stomped her feet until her face was not far from her foe's. _

_ “Me? My friends? Pigheaded?” Behind Vanka, Donnica, her brother and Claudius Sicarius approached her, flaunting their wands. “We have been trained by the most powerful wizard of his generation.” _

_ “And I have been trained by the best witch of her generation,” Vanka said, dismissing the trio with a wave of her hand. Claudius fired off a Sectumsempra at the blonde, who dodged out of its way rather theatrically by barrel rolling to her right. “No one person can be the best at something so vague as magic. I thought your ten-thousand Galleon governess taught you that.” _

_ “And your zero Sickle psycho mother doesn’t understand that where there is something, there is someone who’s the best at it.” _

_ Even Vanka knew that her buttons were too easy to push, but she decided to act recklessly anyway. It wasn’t like she could get expelled or anything – a legitimate school rule – so she blasted jinx after jinx after jinx at the Lestranges. _

_ As predicted, Jarlan came to his sister’s aid almost immediately. His protective shield did the job, bouncing the jinxes off his shield. He sent a Stunning spell in Vanka’s way, and she made no move to avoid it. _

_ Vanka was thrown against the wall in spectacular fraction and though her head hit the wall with a loud thump, she felt numb. She’d been hit with this spell enough times over the last several months for all the impacts to blur together. Ellie – the patient soul she was – immediately rushed to her aid. The girl immediately began closing some of the wounds and blotted some of the more serious spots with Dittany. _

_ Once Ellie had done the best she could, she stepped away as Donnica continued to approach Vanka. “Get up, you bitch,” she leered, “I am nowhere near done with you.” _

_ Dusting her skirt clean, Vanka was thankful that at least her hair was kept out of her face for staring at the not insubstantial damage she’d inflicted on Donnica and her brother earlier in the day. “I can’t be bothered to go for another round,” she said, faking a yawn, “because I know that the real fight will be on the battlefield when we’re older.” _

_ The elder Lestrange daughter blew a raspberry. “Pussy,” Donnica jeered, turning around and flipping her long blonde hair at just the right angle to hit her opponent in the face. Vanka spat in it. Jarlan turned around as if to say something of note, but decided not to. _

_ The longer she spent around the Dark Army, Vanka realised as she made her journey home, the more she felt as if she was being starved of something. Every time she saw Donnica’s face, all she could imagine was how pretty it would look lying on this very corridor, a crimson river pouring from her head. Her smug grin would be gone, replaced by a shock that could only be felt when a blood traitor beat you in a duel. _

_ Of course, Vanka wasn’t thinking about playing fair. Donnica was never going to, and she wasn’t planning on it either. No. Lena was going to teach her Muggle methods and unlike the Lestranges, the Vorstenbachs didn’t mind getting their hands dirty in the slightest especially when the payout could be the end of the war. She was going to beat her and stab her and hear her scream for mercy until she cried. _

_ Somehow, her blood had turned to steel. _

* * *

_ 14.00 October 30th, Year 20: Helsinki, Finland _

Vanka was going to  _ curse  _ herself for letting Ellie run along and find the Bellamy twins. Now she was left alone in the battlefield with nowhere to run except onward, and the only person barring her from safety was the one person she sought to avoid during battles.

She knew her strategy during battle. Fight Jarlan and hopefully  _ Avada  _ his sorry arse had been her sole duty today, and she couldn’t even do  _ that  _ properly through no fault of her own.

Vanka had been torn apart by shock the first time she had killed a person. Claude Sicarius’s face had been pale as snow when she struck him with that emerald green light, the rushing noise flowing like the ocean in her ears. For days she had held her chin up high when the sun shone but the moment she pulled the covers over her head, tears decorated her cheek, giving her features a cheap sheen that would last until morning.

Had it not been for Alex pulling her together, pressing her forehead kisses and allowing her to use him as she pleased, she would probably be stuck in that stage. Ellie had been the one who’d watched her bleed tears and hold her close at night without many complaints; her warm smile would be the first thing she saw every morning. Taden had held her hand in the corridors, told her stories that would lull her to a dreamless sleep.

The irony was that she now had no qualms about inflicting that same curse on any Dark Soldiers that dared crossed her path. She had murdered Abraxas Montague – all she had to do was cast the Curse non-verbally – and had wished that he had time to bleed as she pocketed her wand in her sleeve.

The blonde had had enough time to compose herself from the wane of the last attack when she felt the tip of a wand pressed against her back. On instinct, she jerked away from it and turned to face the woman that had snuck herself into her skin since the age of eleven.

Vanka wished she could be surprised, but she wasn’t. A fight was never a fight between them. It always had to be a showdown, the Grand Final of a Grand Slam. Had it been purely up to the not-so-newlywed, she would’ve spared the theatrics and gotten straight to the meat of things. But her opponent did not share that same sentiment.

When Donnica let the echo of her combat boots echo on the pavement as she walked slowly towards her, Vanka knew better than to attempt to curse her. She simply watched and wondered how and if she could make a move.

A body slamming into the ground beside her interrupted her reverie. From her peripheral vision she could almost be certain that it had been her äiti from the Vorstenbach blonde hair. She had wiped her nose clean of blood, quickly getting back on her feet. Ksenia Lestrange quickly stormed at her, firing off spell after spell after spell, and before Vanka could goad her aunt, Donnica already inches from her, wand on her chest.

“It would be so glorious if I could murder you nice and slow, Vorstenbach,” she whispered, her lips moving closer towards Vanka’s neck. The scent of blood and guts barely stirred Vanka out of her reverie. “But you’re far too close to the top of the food chain for that. Father would be very displeased if I murdered you at the wrong time.” Her lips traced the curve of Vanka’s neck, but where she had once found pleasure she found extreme discomfort. “Congratulations on the wedding, by the way. Never knew that Wells had the balls to fuck you.”

“He’s got more balls than you do,” Vanka responded, inhaling sharply. To think that it had been a month since she last saw her husband, to hear his voice talk on and on about sweet nothings – that did make her heart ache somewhat for her thoughts to linger on him.

But there was never enough time to linger.

“Debatable,” Donnica murmured. Her free hand took hold of Vanka’s chin, tilting it upwards to meet her gaze. “I’m sure you’re well aware of this, Vorstenbach, but in the Dark Army, no one has more power than my mother. The same goes for you. No one has more power in the Light Side than your precious aunt.”

Vanka’s entire body stilled as she waited for her rival to continue. Instead of the Avada she had been anticipating, she found that all trace of the Dark Princess had been removed from her, and the blonde was now staring at her with interest. “It’s quite interesting that you have never thought about taking the throne.”

“I lack experience,” Vanka deadpanned, a regurgitated reply. Her expression turned sour. “Stop playing games and let me fucking  _ fight  _ you, dammit.”

Donnica rolled her eyes. “I’d let you, but what’s the fun in that?”

Vanka shoved the brown-eyed girl away from her. “Just. Stop. Talking.” She removed her wand from her sleeve and wielded it as she began casting nonverbal spells at her. Though they were mostly harmless things, like Tarantallegra and Immobulus, she was still angry that the Dark Lord’s only daughter managed to dodge them all without breaking a sweat.

“Told you there wasn’t much fun in this,” Donnica said, projecting her voice. She hopped on top of a nearby block of concrete to avoid an incoming hex. Vanka did not stop attacking, knowing from attacking Ellie enough times that she would break. She has to break. She must.

“I don’t  _ care,” _ Vanka spat, “you – have – to –  _ die.” _

Donnica scoffed as she finally cast a powerful Langlock against her friend, but Vanka used this break in her defensive strategy to finally go for her Muggle style. She practically threw herself at the blonde, darting like a javelin through the air before landing on top of the woman. Vanka groaned as she sat up and straddled Donnica, pinning her head down.

“Dear Nimue,” the latter deadpanned, crossing her arms, “if you wanted a rehash of fourth year you could’ve just  _ said  _ so.”

“I’d say so, but what’s the fun in that?” Vanka mocked, punching Donnica in the nose. When there was no reaction from the other blonde, she continued to punch, her rhythm erratic and her power waning and waxing as she hit. Whatever techniques she had been taught by her mother had gone down the drain.

Blood gently trickled down her nose, and from pure inspection alone Vanka could see that she had done a number on her lifetime nemesis. “Pathetic,” she hissed, standing up and staring down at her.  _ “Petrificus Totalus.” _

Vanka erected a large Shield around herself and sat back in her bubble, sitting down on the grass. Satisfaction swelled in her gut as she sneered at the paralysed Princess. The blonde traced her features with her wand: the sharp curve of her jaw blushed with knuckle marks, her thin lips bloodied from two red lines stemming from her pug nose. She brushed stray locks out of her line of vision, traced the outline of the eyeliner the woman had so painstakingly applied, cupped her cheek with the tenderness of a lover.

“You had a go with me once,” Vanka muttered snidely, her wand now focused on her face, “you would be mistaken if you think that I would not do the same to you.” She lifted her wand several inches from her face. “If you really think that I would let you have a quick death, you would be mistaken,  _ devushka.” _

A bead of sweat on Donnica’s face glistened in the evening air. Though there was duelling all around them, Vanka’s notice-me-not charm was strong enough to ward off any attention. She turned her attention back to her hostage, and the smile she gave her was enough to turn Rome to dust. “Merlin, it’s so tempted to just hurt you and let you bleed out, but I’d prefer it if you had a clean slate.”

After casting some Healing spells to the best of her ability, Vanka leaned back and beamed at her handiwork. One could say the Dark Princess looked almost pristine, though the blonde did not touch that pretty black eye of hers. Inside her, ten-year-old Vanka felt sick at the realisation of what she had done, of what she did, of what she will do.

But little Ivanka Vorstenbach was not tortured for hours on end by this same girl. Someone that she had spent over half of her life loathing, someone who went out of her way to torture her family and friends, someone who had a Narcissism complex even her father would marvel at.

Vanka had thrown whatever emotion she had for this woman as a teenager out the window, and she knew that another chance to have her revenge like this would be few and far between in the future.

She raised her wand, and from its tip came a bright green light.

_ 17.28 _

Rhys wasn’t sure how much ammo he stocked in his gun, but he was glad he had it anyway. His wife was too busy trying to fight off Mrs. Daggerbutt somewhere, and he was trying to see how easy it was to put a bullet between Mr. Daggerbutt’s ribs.

So far he had managed to keep it to just shooting spells between them, though the ginger wondered why he was trying to keep his Muggle tactics a secret from the man. They were both quite fond of an old-fashioned bar brawl, if only because Rhys had the momentum to be able to haul Daggerbutt halfway across the street. Perhaps he was lacking sixteen years of training to be able to operate on brute strength, but he never worked like that anyway.

It took a while for the ginger to truly grasp nonverbal magic, but now that he could fighting Dag was a lot easier. He spoke a lot quicker in his mind, incorporating some of the old Russian spells Ana had taught him when he was younger into his duel. Daggerbutt seemed to know every single countercurse for every one of his spells, and though the Dark Lord was a very well-read man Rhys definitely wished he  _ wasn’t. _

Their rivalry was molten lava. When ignited, it set off fireworks of every colour that stung, sliced a vein open and made them bleed. It grew cold at times where they did not meet, yet the tension was still there like a Chinese finger trap. Rhys had shared a dorm with that man for six years, and his wife had shared a Common Room with him for their final year as Head Boy and Head Girl, and one thing had become crystal clear over their years at school: the boy was to be stopped.

The ginger could hold a mean grudge – it was one of the few things he had in common with Lena – though he preferred to think this one was quite justified. Though he made no move to find out who put him in his sixteen-year coma, he was positive that Dagareth either put him there or had something to do with it. The Sleeping Beauty Curse, Dommi had called it, what he had cast on her. He was meant to be knocked out for an additional eighty-four years, but somehow that didn’t happen. That was a relief, for a world fighting Dagareth without Lena in it was a dark one.

As they duelled seamlessly, having been exposed to each other’s styles for a prolonged period of time, the ginger continued to ponder upon his secret weapon. The bullets were not Muggle bullets, but ones his wife created using some molds and shaping tools.  _ They’re mercury, _ she said,  _ if you manage to get one of these through his ribs, he’s a fucking goner. _

It was a wonder that Rhys didn’t tire out from all this duelling. Perhaps it was because he was physically thirty-eight but mentally twenty-two, and adrenaline rushes quicker when he’s younger, but he doesn’t care to know because he was going to bloody fight this man until he shrivelled up like a prune so he could go home and shag his wife.

Well, that was the game plan.

By the way things were going, Rhys was pretty sure this was going to end in yet another stalemate. They were too smooth, too refined, and for one to win a match things had to be shaken up, to get messy. He swore that his arch nemesis might as well have read his fucking mind because suddenly he was lunging at him, but Rhys was quick despite his height and dodged him with ease.

Daggerbutt did a barrel roll before he stood up and launched a particularly nasty Slicing Hex at the ginger. His response to it was to jump over it like a trying round of Double Dutch, and the lopsided grin he gave was worth the heated expression he got as a reply.

Rhys had never truly understood his Sorting into Hrabrost when he was eleven. Only did it take fighting off the patriarch of a Pureblood Ancient House for his wife’s hand, fighting an asshole for seven consecutive years and avenging those he loved for him to realise that his bravery had always been there, rooted deep in his heart beneath a thick layer of clumsiness and charisma, and all it needed was the right trigger.

It was this bravery that fuelled him to snatch his gun out of his pocket, brandishing it in front of his lifetime enemy without a plan in mind. He cocked his weapon and aimed it at his long-time nemesis without any other intention than to end him. Rhys pulled the trigger before Daggerbutt could realise what he was going to do. No amount of magic could make him dodge a bullet when it was rocketing a hundred miles in his general direction.

Watching the bullet pierce the Daggerbutt’s skin was a magnificent sight. The ebony-haired man fell to the ground in agony, clutching his torso. His wand slipped out of his palm and onto the soil, and Rhys knew from a split-second glance that it was not the elder wand he had wielded in school, but his wife’s original wand. Giving his enemy a sly smirk, the ginger picked the wand off the ground. Around him, a ceasefire began. He could hear the anguished cries of those already mourning their precious Dark Lord.

What knocked the air out of Rhys’s lungs was when he heard a young woman scream ‘Father’. He looked up from the bleeding man when he saw Donnica rushing towards him, Vanka hot on her tail. There were numerous bruises and scars on the young woman’s voice, and the ginger could only surmise that her niece had something to do with it.

It was odd to admit that despite the atrocities the man had committed, he was no less of a father than Rhys was. But his daughter was no less violent than Vanka and had hurt her miserably in their school years, and Merlin was the man lying if he thought that she didn’t deserve it.

Lena came to join Rhys soon after, a few scars fading on her face plus a large gash on her arm. Her husband frowned, gently kissing a few of the scars away, but she didn’t seem to particularly notice as her eyes and mind wandered.

“I was wrong,” she whispered, “turns out that he will not be a goner the moment the bullet hits him. Quite disappointing, don’t you think?”

Rhys gave her a curt nod. “A bit odd that I could only beat him while he had your wand.” He gave the blackthorn stick back to his wife, who eyed it with interest before putting it in her pocket. “It was almost as if it wanted you back.”

Dagareth was still bleeding, and Ksenia called for an official ceasefire – Rhys did not miss the immense pleasure her distraught expression gave Lena – as Healers began to tend to him. Lena rolled her eyes, mumbling something about not knowing where to lose, but her eyes were drooping.

“Of course my wand wants me back, Rhys,” Lena said, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the man if I could bear it.”

Rhys frowned, “You still haven’t told me how that happened, by the way. How you switched wands.”

“That’s not important,” Lena sighed, “because now, we know two very important pieces of information. One, there is a mole amongst us – perhaps several. Two, we haven’t quite purged the earth of his horcruxes yet.”

“You checked all of Europe though, right?”

“Obviously,” Lena scoffed, her tone acerbic and eyes barely moving from the Lestrange women surrounding their patriarch, “I believe I wasn’t meticulous enough in my efforts to destroy them all. I thought I had, but I was clearly mistaken.” The corners of her lips twitched upwards. Her voice lowered as she spoke her next sentences. “But now we have an inside man. We can cover far more ground now that we have someone with unrestricted access to the Lestrange Empire.”

“You’re going to release him, Le? I don’t think that’s wise.”

“We’re going to have to sooner or later, whether we like it or not. We take care of our toys, remember?”

Ksenia called Lena’s maiden name as a grunt, her face back to the steely resolve that most of the older generations often referred to as an Uchitel glare. “I must go,” the Light Queen declared in a dark tone, chuckling, “it’s not so often that the Dark Lady waits for me and not vice versa.”

As the two women began to walk towards Linnanmäki Park, Rhys remembered what Frodo said about the battle changing everything. He didn’t count on it being  _ him  _ who was the catalyst for that change, and he only hoped that things got brighter from here.


	16. 4A: October - November 2080

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s Halloween,” Cordelia said, looking at her clock, “they’ve been negotiating for six hours.”
> 
> “There have been sex sessions longer than this, Cordelia. Be patient,” Kait huffed, her feet propped up on a cushion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on chapter 23 and i'm proud of myself

_ 00.00 October 31st: Helsinki, Finland _

“It’s Halloween,” Cordelia said, looking at her clock, “they’ve been negotiating for six hours.”

“There have been sex sessions longer than this, Cordelia. Be patient,” Kait huffed, her feet propped up on a cushion. The Bellamy twin blushed, and the woman scoffed. “The armistice between the two old Koreas took over two years to be negotiated, so I don’t think the fate of Finland can be decided in a couple of hours.”

“But there’s not much to decide,” Cornelia replied, crossing her ankles. She hissed in pain as Chara continued to dab Dittany on her arms but continued to prattle on. “The Lestranges have used most of Finland’s money before the War to fund their army and whatever it is has gone on in the Empire. Not much leaves Finland in the last twenty years other than highly educated wizards for the Empire and not much has entered either. The people are rioting, and their loyalty towards the family is shaky at best, and from the headlines Lena has shown us during the briefing they prefer someone with actual Finnish blood to rule over them, by that I mean her, obviously. It would be foolish for the Lestranges to keep Finland at this point.”

Chara Bellamy kissed her niece’s forehead, and Cordelia scowled at the action. “Well done,” she whispered. Turning to the Interrogation Leader, the woman said, “Though Cai Liang has made some excellent points, we both know that it would be more complicated than that.”

Kait snickered, “Of course it would be. You think that Lena and I have explosive arguments? Wait ‘til you see what’s going on in that park.” She tsked. “Don’t let the lack of flashy lights fool you, kids. The place is chock-full of tension. They did date in fifth year, after all.” She burst into peals of laughter, and was not deterred by Vanka’s stony gaze.

_ “Äiti _ didn’t date Donnica’s mother,” she countered, though she sounded too resigned for it to be any sort of real protest, “it was just speculation because they spent so much time fighting and stuff. She said they were always trying to outdo each other during their OWL year.”

“Not  _ just _ during their OWL year,” the Hrabrost alumna corrected, “it’s miraculous that Valerie Greenway managed to survive being in the same dorm as them.”

Frodo knocked in the front of their tent, and when Kait nodded he entered, sitting cross-legged next to his wife. “I gave Nick and Ashley some time to be… alone.” At his wife’s sudden smirk he quickly interjected, “Vanka and Ellie are both in the tent with them, and they’re playing cards – “

“Exploding Snap?” Cordelia interrupted, eyes beaming.

Frodo nodded.

The twins immediately stood from their places and tried to find their friends. Cordelia immediately rushed for the gate while Cornelia limped behind her. They were soon gone from the tent, leaving the three adults on their own. Chara sat on a chair, observing the numerous potions she had on her desk and putting them in an arbitrary order only she could understand.

“I think we should start training Cordelia in Interrogation,” Kait said casually. She did not dismiss the way Chara’s head whipped around quickly the moment she said her niece’s name. “I should’ve told you that both Haze, Luke, and Cordelia gave their okays a while ago.”

“Did they?” Frodo frowned, though his eyes didn’t seem to cloud in the slightest, “I didn’t know that.”

“That’s good for her,” Chara said, her voice slicing the tension in half. “The Interrogation Division is a bit difficult to get into, isn’t it?”

“It is, yes.” Kait was surprised she’d asked that question at all; Chara’s mother had led the team before her demise and her stringent recruiting policies for the Interrogation Department. “The standards are quite high, you know. She has quite the talent in Occlumency.”

“Of course,” the woman quipped, swiping a stray black curl away from her face. “I’m sure my mother’s Feng Shui exercises have helped you on your Occlumency techniques as an adult. These same methods have been ingrained in Cai Liang since birth, of course she has talent.”

Frodo quirked an eyebrow. “Yet she’s working under the Science Division, despite her obvious talent in the subject. Her aptitude test results for the position were phenomenal, but her best results were for the Interrogation Department.” He cleared his throat as he Summoned a glass of water. “I noticed that in the end of the application form, you didn’t sign it.”

“What are you getting at, Frodo?”

“I’m saying that you don’t want her in Interrogation, Chara. You know that Cordelia thinks highly enough of you to put you down as her trusted advisor during the training program.”

Exhaling a sigh, Chara straightened her back. “It’s not safe to put her there. She’s a young soul that wants what the heart wants. There are horrors beyond what any of us can comprehend in people.”

“She survived today pretty well,” Kait said, patting the woman’s back, “and it’s as bad as it gets. I’m going to at least give you time to reconsider. It might be terrifying, but it looks like something she could really excel at. It could be her calling. And you know all about that don’t you, Miss Guns Galore Bellamy?”

Chara gave her a warm laugh, “Perhaps.”

* * *

 

_ 01.30 November 1st: Helsinki, Finland _

Ellie was still recovering from the battle. Though she was glad that her ear had healed, she had to turn away from the several  _ Lumos Maximas _ Ashley had cast to light up the tent. At least Vanka had the strength to cast a few warming charms on both of them while Nick, Ashley and Ineesa were laid out like enchiladas across them: a trio of bagworms wrapped in fresh, warm blankets.

“I can’t sleep,” the blonde said, “can you?”

“Not really,” Ellie replied honestly, her mind still wandering towards Jarlan’s earlier attack on her. Something about it made her feel so  _ alive,  _ and though her skin was still crawling with his touch and flush with his words, she felt like she was glowing. Beneath her eyelids, there must’ve been another pair of eyes because there was no way she could feel so alive in battle. “I feel tired, but at the same time – “

“ – I feel you,” Vanka breathed, reaching across the gap between them and squeezing her hand. The blonde’s hand was too cold, and it immediately sent shivers up Ellie’s spin. “I feel like if I sleep, I can see what happened today all over again but if I stay up, I don’t have to.”

Ellie hummed in agreement. “What happened to you? Did you see Donnica?”

“No.” Her reply was too quick, a staccato in her usual legato speech. “I didn’t.”

The Healer trainee knew better than to press for more details from her best friend. They would come eventually, sometimes as a blizzard and sometimes a drizzle, but the details always came out. All it would take was several shots of Russian water and a particularly shitty night (which did not include tonight) for her to spill her secrets. “Okay,” was all she could say, the word hesitant on her lips.

She could feel the blonde’s body curl around hers, her arm curled around her waist. It was a positioned they’d adopted as young children, and Ellie found comfort in the bear hugs and how Vanka’s shallow breaths reminded her of her existence as she slept. “You know that I would do anything for you, right?” she questioned, her voice frail, hanging by a thread.

“Of course,” Ellie responded, her tone firm, “and I for you.” Her umber palm reached for a milky one, and she gave it a light squeeze. “I love you the most.”

“I love you too.”

“Even more than Taden, your lawfully wedded husband?”

“Not more, but different. Philia for you, eros for him.”

Ellie swore that there was a staccato there, hidden in the quick tempo of her speech, but she was far too physically fatigued and magically exhausted to overanalyse everything her best friend was saying. Besides, her mind was put to far better use wondering why Jarlan Lestrange – her childhood crush and lifelong enemy by pure association – would go anywhere near her.

The most troubling thing of all, perhaps, was because Ellie already knew the answer.

“Good night,” Vanka said, drawing the silence to a close.

“Good night,” Ellie replied.

She could feel Vanka’s grip tighten around her – not too much, but enough to create a space between them that was theirs and no one else’s. It felt nice, frankly, and she knew that at least, for now, she was in her best friend’s arms: someone that had loved her unconditionally since they were babies, someone who stuck with her regardless of who she loves, someone she knew she was stupid not to keep until the very end.

_ We could be like Mum and Haze, _ she thought, though she did remember that they had dated once. Her face frowned as she settled on other examples.  _ Kait and Le – no, they liked each other once apparently. Not at the same time, but still. Kait and Lora. Yeah, that seems more like it. _

* * *

 

_ 12.00 November 1st: Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Southern France _

The first thing that Taden noticed about the school was how  _ bright  _ it was. Not in a light sort of way – though there were plenty of chandeliers for him to make  _ that  _ conclusion – but in the way that the uniforms were robin’s egg blue and laughter was the background music in every corridor.

Taden’s French was still shit – a fact that everyone could agree on – and he was thankful that he at least got to give his portion of the talk in Russian with Jakob and Julian by his side to translate everything. He’d pored over every word, wondering what words would get the so-called flighty Beauxbatons to stop their chatter and listen to what he had to say. Though France had more problems dealing with foreigners than it did with blood purity, they had been suspiciously quiet about the whole matter despite providing financial assistance to the Light.

“There is no such thing as too many voices speaking for the same cause,” Dylan had said, “what matters more is see how many voices use themselves to make sure that they fight for it.”

They reached what Taden thought was their rendition of the Great Hall before the morning classes began. The chandeliers drooped from the walls dangerously close to the heads of the students, and though there was a definite housing system, the divide wasn’t as obvious as it was in Hogwarts, but still not so blurred as Durmstrang, as everyone just sat with whoever they please. He hoped that at least their alliances at their age didn’t result in the death and finality his did.

Though Durmstrang and Docentribis required students to understand the scientific well enough to write a simple lab report, Beauxbatons took it a step further, and their pragmatic approach to subjects made it easy for Taden to write his portion of the speech. He could easily skimp on the simple stuff and get right into the nitty gritty of things – just the way he liked it.

A girl on the far right of the room winked at him, but he knew it probably meant nothing. Julian had warned him of certain girls’ flirtatious natures ahead of time, and the key was not to make eye contact. Taden smiled at the girl as warmly as he could, though his eyes skirted hers and onto the clock on the wall behind her.

Taden exhaled as he and Dylan settle themselves at the dais in front of the room. All two-thousand of France’s finest students were here. He could feel his fingers clamouring for something to hold, to fiddle with just to take his mind off the proceedings. Dylan’s smooth tenor washed over the room like the ocean: deep and comforting and gentle, coaxing the attention of most in the room.  _ Of course it would, _ Taden thought _. For them, having two Russian scientists fighting in a goddamn war visit them personally is big. _

His shaky French and his uncanny memory allowed him to decipher the gist of his mentor’s spiel. They  _ did  _ it, Dylan said, they isolated the gene that separated Muggles and Wizards. It was a game of chance, and every time a child with magical genes were born Fate throws dice in the air and decides whether it was to hold a wand or not, yet over the past twenty years the Lestrange family and their allies have murdered over two million Muggles for this.

Maybe it had been Dylan’s charm, or the way he composed himself, or the way he spat out numbers at every given opportunity, but Taden could see the horror inflicted in some of their faces. Other than the devastating battle that took place in the French capital four years prior, the hexagon had been relatively immune to the effects of the Army.

“We are not trying to prove one is superior to the other,” Dylan spoke, his tone a fresh breath of air from stuffy professors who had only a piece of parchment to prove their Mastery, “we just want to prove a point. A point that the fight in the East has been centered around. We have recreated the Iron Curtain the Muggles fought ceaselessly to tear down, and I suggest we do the same.

“Stand your ground. Fight for what is right. We do not ask you to fight for us because we do not need to lose any more lives. Just stand behind us, and when the time comes, we promise to protect you like we did four years ago.”

There was a wave of approval before Dylan continued. Taden had never been made aware of his mentor’s public speaking chops and though he did not expect the speeches to be anywhere as good as Frodo’s, this one came pretty damn close. It was clear that the man knew how to command the crowd: whether this came from ruling Durmstrang in his schooldays with his friends are unknown.

Once Dylan’s speech ended and Taden took the stage, only then was he made aware of how often his eye twitched and how his hands trembled and how his knees wobbled under the weight of the words he had yet to give. The first motion of his mouth was only to form an affirmative that he was to begin.

Did Taden give a halfway decent speech? He didn’t know. By the time he delivered his conclusion, he’d forgotten his opening sentence.

* * *

 

_ 19.00 November 1st: Nice, France _

As cold as Jakob complained it was, Dylan found it hot – almost feverishly so. He found himself sweating in his capris, taking a drag of yet another cigarette and pretending that Lora was in the chair next to him, shaking her head.

Instead it was Taden, who was still asleep after tea, his beer lukewarm and his mouth either wide open or mumbling his wife’s name. The boy could not get enough sleep, Dylan’s mind flashing back to a day several months before. The pair had pulled off an all-nighter and Taden had not resurfaced from the land of the dead for all of twelve hours afterwards. He had gotten much better since then, but the memory of said night would forever amuse him.

He wondered how Ashley was doing in Helsinki. Nothing in his heart betrayed the fact that she was dead or seriously injured, but the fact that Lora hadn’t found it necessary to contact him through a two-way mirror, always hidden in his breast pocket.

The little trinket managed to worm its way into his life during one of his mother’s impulsive visits to Hogsmeade visiting some friend or other. He’d been traipsing around the town in solitude when he’d bumped into the piece of glass on the shop window of none other than Dervish and Banges. He’d gotten the piece of glass, Geminio’d it, and gave the other piece to Lora at the earliest opportunity. It was one thing that reminded him she was real during the long summer holidays, the long journeys away from her (this was the one trip she actually stuck to Lena’s advice to  _ not  _ speak to him) and so, so much more. Currently, the mirror was as cold as the Russian winter. That made something in Dylan’s throat catch.

Jakob, who had chosen to be relatively silent at that point – thank Merlin – took a sip of his beer and slid back into the chair next to Dylan. “I’m surprised we haven’t heard anything from Finland,” he remarked, “I thought my sister would be arm deep in news in a Floo call at some point today, but to be fair, it’s  _ Helsinki.  _ We’d be mad if we thought it wouldn’t last for a couple of days,  _ at least.” _

“True,” he replied, “but we have many allies there. I’m sure that will help.”

“Everyone likes a little bit of Jurgen Aigner in their lives,” Jakob quipped. “The man is as resourceful as he is funny. I can see why Vorstenbach took to him quickly at school.” He turned to the sea. “Do you have any more smokes?”

Dylan searched his pockets, and shook his head when he had no luck. “Sadly, no. I think Rousseau took the rest. Insisted that I shouldn’t smoke around Ondrea or she’ll go ballistic. Or was it Alaina?”

“Probably Alaina.” Jakob leaned back further in his seat, and it was only by the grace of magic that the seat was literally charmed not to fall. “So, funny how life has turned out, huh?”

“Oh Merlin, not  _ another  _ philosophical dilemma.”

“But don’t you find it amusing Vorstenbach and Sokol are still in their little spat from when they were still at school, only on a much larger scale, Vorstenbach and Edmunds are still a thing, you and McCall are  _ still  _ a thing, same goes for Sokol and Lestrange, Merkulov and Grayson comma Kaitlen, Grayson comma Iris and Tshering, Prentiss and – “

“Prentiss and  _ who?” _

“O’Malley.” Dylan raised his brow at his friend’s observation. “I heard that he and O’Malley are sort of, maybe in a relationship. They have definitely consummated it, that’s for sure.”

“I damn well hope they’ve consummated their relationship or Alex Cartwright’s existence would be a lie.” He scoffed. “Of course I know Prentiss and O’Malley are in a relationship, but I just find it… interesting.”

“What?”

“Prentiss and O’Malley.  _ Again.  _ After twenty years, a marriage, children, and war. It almost sounds like fate brought them back together.”

“Merlin, Jakob. You can’t be  _ serious.  _ Are you saying that you believe in fate?”

“I’m just saying considering their history and Prentiss’s previous relationships, it’s interesting to see them back together again.” Jakob smirked. “Ten Galleons that O’Malley will be up the doss at the end of the year, or be Mrs. Prentiss, or both.”

“You can’t actually bet over something as stupid as this.”

“Coward, Dylan? Then I’ll do it,” Taden said, smirking.

* * *

 

_ November 2nd: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters – Meeting Room #5 _

Finland wore its native blue and white that day. The television – which was essentially an upgraded model of the whiteboard – showed several aerial shots of the destroyed city slowly being rebuilt. In the centre of it all, Jurgen Aigner was limping with Topias by his side, functioning as his crutch as his was being created in the makeshift hospital.

Lena’s grin was contagious; Kait and Lora were laughing over some inside jokes, Anya and Rhys were in a particularly amusing game of Monopoly that she was also taking part in, and even Frodo sported a small smile as he sipped his glass of wine. It had been a small victory, yes, but any victory was a good one, and the Light Queen knew that such happiness would not last for long.

Anya’s brown curls were in a loose bun as she rolled the dice, getting a four.  The hat skipped across the board, landing on Mayfair. She hitched her breath as she immediately put it up for auction; there was little doubt that she’d win the game considering she had most of the colours under her belt.

Lena immediately exclaimed ‘a thousand’ before Rhys could say anything. He then doubled the value, a thin smirk playing on his lips before she doubled that. After saying that Rhys would pay sixteen thousand pounds for Mayfair, Anya said that she was sure that there wasn’t enough money in the set for that, so Lena wandlessly duplicated her money until the pile of paper filled half the table and she shoved the money towards her best friend.

Rhys let out a low whistle at the amount. “You are a  _ cheater.” _

She stuck her tongue out towards him. “Did you really expect me to play fair the entire time?”

“I had hoped you would, but I know better.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss atop her forehead. “Oi, Frodo! You owe me five Galleons.”

As if on cue, Ana started crying in the corner of the room, and as Frodo was busy tossing the Galleon into the air, Lena caught it in her palm and pocketed it before lifting her baby from her cradle and shushed it to sleep. “Ana doesn’t like it when you make bets against Äiti,” she whispered, cooing at her daughter. The baby continued to cry, and the blonde cocked an eyebrow, her gaze flicking back and forth between the two men.

“You think we’re really going to stop making bets against you?” Frodo mused, throwing the Galleon like a dart in the ginger’s direction. “I wish we could, Le, but all of this is just so Rhys and I can try and predict your reactions to various stimuli.”

“I’m your husband, and I find a lot of the results are inconclusive,” Rhys frowned, “if you weren’t such a stickler to scientific integrity I would say you were  _ purposely sabotaging  _ the experiment.”

“Can you both shush?” Lena frowned, turning her attention back to Ana.

The ginger rolled his eyes at her dismissal. “Merlin, Le. You  _ have  _ to stop using our child as your shield every time we so much as disagree with – “

As her child began to wail again, the blonde began whispering endearments to her, humming a lullaby once she found that it was not enough. Ana did manage to sleep soon after, and after planting a kiss to the girl’s forehead, the Light Queen found a chair to temporarily transfigure into a cot and placed her child there, summoning a cushion and turning a pen into a quilt.

“You’re a natural,” Rhys smiled. He kissed his wife on the cheek, earning him a smidge of a blush from the woman. “Though we still have to talk about not raising our daughter to be her mother’s shield.”

“She’ll be that and more,” Lena said. Once she was certain that their child was drifting on the dreamtrails, she abruptly announced in the middle of Lora’s turn, “What do we do next?”

“Lena, please, not now – “

“Three days is plenty of time to catch our breath. We need to start planning our next move.”

“Helsinki was on the edge of disastrous. We need time to recuperate.” Frodo did not let his gaze move from the Queen. “We’re tired, Lena. Please – “

“I’m tired too,” the blonde said. Next to her, Rhys took her hands within his. “But the Lestranges have just lost a large chunk of their territory. They’ll be restless, so even if we’re tired, it  _ doesn’t fucking matter _ . We can’t afford to be.” She stood, rapping her knuckles on a wall to reveal a drawer filled with Aubrey Yusikova’s owls. “No news regarding the Dark Army yet. They’re are taking the loss hard, but I assure you that they will find their way of retaliating. Lora – have you spoken to Dylan at all?”

“You said not to – “

“I know him, and I know you.”

Lora sighed, her lids hanging heavily. “No, I haven’t, actually.”

Lena smiled, gently massaging her friend’s shoulder. Lora turned to face her friend, and the two women shared a curt nod. “Tell him everything you deem necessary. I trust you.”

* * *

 

_ 07.00 November 3rd: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters – Room 5 _

Two decades prior, Chuck would’ve said that he was a man ruled by lust. The same still holds true, but his experiences from being away from his lover for weeks on end made him appreciate the little things. The small things. The specks of dust.

Dommi was curled up into a ball, her back facing him, the shallow heave of her chest signalling her position: still stuck in the Dreamlands, as per. The woman was too exhausted, only taking brief naps in between taking care of the patients from Helsinki and being the only one who knew Muggle psychology well enough to perform the required psychological evaluations on everyone. At least Ellie had escaped the battle unharmed, though Chuck noticed the invisible battle scars she wore on her head.

The brunet brushed a curl of Dommi’s hair behind her ear, pressing his lips to a place right beneath her earlobe. Her hand reached up to brush his, motioning it and his head away to turn around and face him.  _ She looked so peaceful in sleep, _ he thought,  _ though the moment she wakes she’ll scream when she realises she got drool all over my shirt. _

Dommi mumbled several words, none of which Chuck could hear. He asked her to repeat it again. She repeated it, this time louder, and the man could still not hear it. One arm outstretched, the woman grumbled and tried to push him away, but his arms had a bad habit of being gangly so he reached around her arm and laced his hands on her waist and he began tickling her.

She shrieked, jolting into a sitting position almost immediately and taking the pillow behind her to whip it onto Chuck’s chest. He laughed, still tickling her even though she squirmed to break free. Her hands managed to latch onto his wrist and pushed them away, sticking her tongue out in victory.

“You’re awful,” she said, pouting.

Charles sat up, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “And good morning to you too, sweetheart.” He performed a Tempus Charm, frowning when he realised the sun had not yet risen. “Though going by the looks of things, I’d rather go to bed.”

In contrast, Dommi gasped and almost jumped out of the bed. “Oh Merlin, I have to go back to work, Pitsunov is still in critical condition – “

“Lena gave you the day off, remember?”

“I know, but I happen to be the only one in this goddamn camp who knows how to heal him. Ellie still can’t grasp the basic fundamentals of – “

“Shhh.” Chuck’s finger rested gently on his girlfriend’s lips. Their focus both turned to it, their eyes flickering downwards before returning to each other’s. “You need a break, Dommi. You won’t be considered fit enough to Heal when you overexert yourself. You’re also underestimating your daughter. She managed to survive Paris, didn’t she? Helsinki would’ve been a piece of cake.”

“Perhaps,” Dommi said, her tone wavering, her mezzosoprano voice a lot less soprano than it usually was. “Besides, Ellie’s smart, isn’t she? I think she can understand… uh, whatever it was I was going to heal Pitsunov with, pretty quickly.”

“Adder’s fork Draught.”

“Yeah. That.”

Charles grinned, Summoning a jug of water and a pair of wine glasses to him. After pouring a glass for his girlfriend, he poured one for himself, letting the water wash the morning breath away as he drank. When they were done, the former Hitrost leaned over to kiss Dommi on the cheek. She giggled. “You’re docile this morning, Prentiss.”

“It’s the first time we’ve been alone in broad daylight in  _ two days,”  _ he mused with all the petulance of a small child, “and last night was awesome… and all the times before that – “

“I hope so – “

“But I never really got to talk to you the way we used to.”

Dommi snorted. “We never really  _ talked,  _ Chuck. It was never really our thing.”

“I know, but things have made me think,  _ ‘Why?’ _ What is so  _ difficult  _ about talking that makes it difficult to speak to anyone about anything? Okay, not quite, I do have a tendency to ramble.”

“You don’t say.” Dommi leaned on his shoulder, her hand reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Okay then, Prentiss. Let’s talk, preferably without all of the fancy wand waving this time.”

The brunet shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what to say, in all honesty. Ask me anything."

Dommi raised a brow. “Anything?”

“Anything that tickles your fancy. Might as well make this an Honesty Hour or something.”

The ex-Slushatel frowned, taking her time before she finally said something. “You know, I’m sure you’re bound not to say anything but a blood oath about what happened in Russia and East Ukraine, but what happened?”

Running his hands through his hair, Charles blew a low whistle. “You do like asking the hard questions, don’t you?”

“I do. Surprised they haven’t tried my hand at Interrogation yet, honestly.”

“You’d be pretty fucking good.”

“I know, but we both know where I stand with hurting people.” She said, “So, what was it like to live under Daggerbutt? Our information  _ says  _ things when they stop by, but they never  _ say  _ things.”

The brunet understood. He had an inkling on who this informant was, and had always did since it was part of his job description, but refused to let Dommi know that he knew far more than they thought he did just by being here. “Understandable,” he said eventually, “it’s not a peachy life, living under his thumb.”

“Though I can’t quite imagine it being the hellfire that Lena makes it out to be.”

“Not that either, no.” Charles fought back a smile as he thought of them, and Dommi pretended she couldn’t see. “Awful things happen: there aren’t any laws on experimentation, so children get experimented on all the time, and there’s a lot of crime and necromancy what with the Volans still ranking highly on the Lestrange hierarchy for  _ whatever  _ reason.

“At the same time, it’s amazing, seeing magic being pushed to its boundaries. New spells are being made all the time, and old ones are being rediscovered. I’m sure the Light Queen is doing plenty of research on her own, but it’s one thing to  _ hear  _ about these things and another thing to see it being done in person.”

Dommi nodded slowly, and he knew that as much as she wanted to, begged to, she wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. Never could and never would. “Did – did you find anything new?” she asked, brown eyes glowing.

Charles shook his head. “I’m not capable of doing so. I’m just Idiot Prentiss, remember?”

And so Dommi continued asking questions, and Charles continued to answer. Merlin hoped he wasn’t completely lying to her by leaving icebergs out of his stories because no decent human being deserved to hear them, and she was far too decent, too kind, too morally bound to understand everything, to understand why, yet this was the most honest the man felt he’d been to her in the entire time they’ve known each other.

He wasn’t sure if this was something to be celebrated, but he supposed there were worse things to be than dishonest.


	17. 4B: November 2080 + November 2065

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “War isn’t like our menstrual cycles. You can’t just ask – “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeaaahhhhhh boiiiiii

_ 06.00 November 13th, Year 20: 16ème arrondissement, Paris, France _

Taden could feel the winter chill beginning to seep into his bones as he stood on the balcony. Sure it was France, and it would never be as cold as he was used to, but it felt more like home and the world became  _ that  _ much more bearable. 

He missed Vanka. It was a bloody obvious statement, but one that refused to leave his head. She was not the most loving, doting or even the most sensitive wife, but she understood. She was the only person as cold as he was, but infinitely more beautiful and a lot less charismatic and did not push more than necessary. She laughed at his jokes, did not make the ridiculous statements about his beauty to his face or behind his back he’d seen Ellie did about Jarlan numerous times, and knew how to hold him when the nightmares went black. Plus, she was ridiculously hot when she got angry.

He’d written a novel and a half to her during his time away, knowing that she wouldn’t care to hear about half or even most of the details, but because he knew that these words meant something. If anything should happen to him – when anything happened to him, there would be evidence that whatever he did  _ worked.  _ He did not fail her.

The blond performed a Tempus Charm and drew a long breath when he realised that he had only sustained sleep for four hours before he left his bed. No matter how many nights he had to get used to sleep without his wife’s arm draped across his waist, it was a fact his body refused to get used to. Also, he just felt uneasy. Almost ridiculously, irrationally so.

Taden resigned himself to checking on the wards Julian and Jakob had so tirelessly set up around the flat. He made quick work of it, though he wished that he knew better, quicker, more thorough spells than the ones he did know. Magic was a thing constantly expanding and growing, and the development of magic in both empires were so rapid not even a weekly subscription of newly-published journals could help him keep up. He placed his wand in his jeans and returned to the flat.

Dylan was about to leave when he returned. “Can’t sleep, Taden?” he asked.

“Not really,” the blond replied. “I – The wards on this flat are sound, if you’re still wondering.” He tilted his head. “Is there anything wrong, Dylan?”

His supervisor chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “I hope the wards are sound, considering Julian and Jakob are both capable wizards.” He shook his head. “No, not at all. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that Lora… she _called_ me using the mirror.” 

Taden audibly gasped. “Did she actually?”

“Last night,” Dylan confirmed, “she… she told me…  _ everything.” _

Taden rushed to his side, “Oh Merlin. Helsinki. Is – is Vanka al – “

“Vanka’s fine. Ashley’s fine.” He took a deep breath. “Everyone is fine.” He embraced Taden, patting his head. “We have Finland now. The pamphlets – they  _ worked,  _ Taden.  _ They worked.” _

The blond could almost scream with joy as he tightened his embrace with his mentor, letting a tear run down his cheek before releasing himself. “Merlin – did we actually do it?”

“We have a million miles to go,” Dylan said, his tone steady and cautious as always, “but yeah, I suppose we did.”

_ Did you hear that, Vanka? We made it. _

Taden’s smile lit up significantly in the moonlight. “I – we have plans, right? We can’t just stop here, not while everything is going well.” 

“Julian had the idea of sending them to areas in the States and Asia where there are high concentrations of European wizards that emigrated during the War. He hoped that maybe them coming back and helping us with the effort would help us with numbers. If even ten percent have a strong nostalgia for the Motherland as you do, that’s a huge boost right there.” 

“Numbers? I wasn’t aware we had a problem.”

“Kait rambled about that for a bit, but that’s a story for another time.” Dylan patted his protégé on the shoulder. “I really am proud of you, Taden. Seven years of that awful Docentribis curriculum and you’ve proven yourself somewhat competent as a scientist.”

“A bit difficult to satisfy your standards when I don’t have a Mastery yet.”

“If the War ever ends, I’ll see to it that you do.”

Taden could feel the hair hitting his face from the breeze which soon began picking up speed. His breaths grew quicker as it brought his mind to another place, another time –

He froze, trying not to let the panic show on his face. It took him seconds to realise that he was twenty and not sixteen, married and a scientist with a foothold in life. Staring up at Dylan, who merely nodded, the blond took his wand out of his pocket and began casting protective shield charms around the apartment. When the wind abruptly stopped, his hand still hovering in mid-air, Taden retreated until he could feel splinters from the door stabbing his back.

Perhaps his imagination had been overacting again. He hoped to Merlin that it was his imagination.

The wind started again, but Taden could feel that he was ready this time. His breaths were still shaky and the flashbacks would constantly taunt his brain, but he had been a soldier once and he would do it again if he needed to. The cost of his life didn’t matter, because as long as Dylan and Julian and Jakob and  _ Vanka  _ were safe, he’d do anything, kill anyone, because Merlin knows his soul was already tainted. So deliciously, darkly tainted.

A crow smashed headfirst into the wards, shattering them like glass. 

* * *

 

_ November 4th, Year 5: Donetsk, East Ukraine and Volgograd, Russia _

_Charles drew in a breath as he examined the city – or rather, the town of rubble that it had been reduced to. It was still as important as it was when it was ruled by Muggles, but he highly doubted it was because it was the melting point for all sorts of unsavoury Potions enthusiasts to meet up across Dark Army territory._  

_ The former Hitrost was at one of the city’s more well-lit pubs, though calling it ‘well-lit’ was a compliment worthy of the Dark Lady. He had ordered a shot of Ogden’s – the rarest shot in the territory since Britain and Ireland had declared it an enemy – and waited patiently for his contact to arrive. Other than a picture of the man and a description of a time and place, he didn’t have much to go on. _

_ Dagareth had sent him to work on some assignment concerning Potions ingredients supplies, and the sightings of a few Army members that went missing. They said that Mironenko and Oleynik had been missing for the past several weeks, but Charles had met both of them on separate occasions the day prior. Perhaps they had reasons for lying low – the Light Side had a tendency of making people do that when they captured them – but they had failed to report to the Dark Lord and that was unforgivable. _

_ Today’s meeting was with a man who was known only as Ablorde, a Beauxbatons graduate who was the only link between Eastern Europe and Africa. African Lizards had been the new craze for Potions enthusiasts – particularly in Odessa, where a potion rumoured to expand bones until infinity was being researched – and Dagareth required strong links and an agreement between himself and the shipping company to be made as soon as possible. _

_ Charles wasn’t sure why  _ he  _ had been the one given the task at all, in all honesty. He wasn’t known being a negotiator – he was far too awkward and lacked the finesse and knowledge of the Lestrange accounts Montague and Karl von Bergen had – and he knew that Ablorde had dealt with his father in the past. He sure hoped that the man didn’t expect him to be suave, socially comfortable demeanour his father had. _

_ After all, sons were never their fathers. _

_ Charles checked his watch and pretended not to be ridiculously peeved when he saw the man was running late. If Ablorde was going to deal with supplies right under the Dark Lord’s thumb, surely he should know better than to have tardiness as a character trait? The brunet wrote the observation down regardless, not knowing if he or the man was going to be punished for it. _

_ He had spent much too long dwelling on his thoughts he almost escaped the man sliding into the seat next to him. “I must apologise for my delay,” Ablorde said, and a brief flicker into the man’s eyes told Charles he was being genuine. “I was dealing with one of the Bass siblings, who were unfortunately late themselves. Again, I apologise.” He drew a sigh of relief. “Good thing it’s you and not part of the Inner Circle.” _

_ Charles gave him a tight-lipped smile. Must everyone underestimate him? He had a reputation for being an idiot, but he wasn’t sorted into Hitrost – and a fully trained Prentiss, despite appearances and knowledge to the contrary – for nothing. “Indeed,” the brunet said, “I could have been a member of the Inner Circle, or I could have been my sister, Millicent.” _

_ Millicent may not have left Durmstrang yet, but Charles was thankful that the rest of the world will soon find her as terrifying as he did. Word of her deeds have clearly spread to Ablorde’s circle, as his eyes widened when he mentioned her. “So you’re  _ that  _ Prentiss’s son?” _

_ “Yes,” Charles said, taking a sip of what must have been his third or fourth shot of Firewhiskey of the day, “and you know what they say: the apple does not fall far from the tree.” _

_ The rest of the meeting continued as per: with Charles holding leverage over leverage over leverage (for a simple merchant, Ablorde had a lot to hide – though the same could be said for Charles himself) over the man to get him to give in to Dagareth’s demands. The two-hour meeting was over in the blink of an eye, and since he was ahead of schedule the former Hitrost decided to treat himself by Apparating back to Volgograd, where he would be stationed for the next several months. _

_ His mind still sober, Charles decided to head back to his modest apartment, built by the last of the Muggles who resided in the area before Dagareth and his lackeys had murdered them all. He made himself a cup of coffee and picked up his violin, using a variety of cleaning charms to get the muck and dust from its surface and inside the body. _

_ It had been years since the former Hitrost had thought of it, let alone touched it. The War left him no time for pleasure. It didn’t grant him love, friendship, or companionship. Even he himself wondered if life’s most fulfilling emotions had been evading him, or had it been vice versa. Either way, he was far too busy to concern himself with the answer. _

_Still, he had the evening off, and other than the fact that the D-string was in urgent need of replacement, his violin was otherwise okay. It had been made by a wizard back in his third year of Durmstrang – when girls fawning over him was still his biggest concern and he still played daily – and was made with Canadian maple for the soundboard and poplar for the back. The pegs, now stiff and stony, had once been the easiest pegs he’d ever had the pleasure of turning. It took him a solid ten minutes to tune his violin to his standards and began to play Song of a Secret Garden._  

_ Thankfully, Charles was not completely out of touch with the former love of his life, though he berated himself with how shrill his violin sounded. He exhaled, put his violin back in its case and zipped it up again. Only then did he remember his coffee, and he went back to the kitchen to drink it. _

_ There was a knock on the door. No one knew Charles lived here so that immediately roused his suspicions. He mumbled, “Homenum Revelio.” When he realised that there was a marker beyond the door, his apprehension only increased. _

_ Wand at the ready, Charles opened the door. In front of him was an old woman wrapped in so many scarves it took him a moment to register where her face was. _

_ “So you’re the new man in the neighbourhood!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him for a hug. “Maria had been going on and on about you for days. She didn’t mention you’d be so pretty. Come, devochka! We’ve made plenty of food for all of you newcomers. I promise they’re not poisoned.” _

_ “Thank you, but I really don’t think that’s – “ _

_ “I insist!” The old woman grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out the door. Merlin, what was with him and being dragged to social events by very pushy women? _

_ When he got to the downstairs courtyard, the desolate, grey place had been transformed entirely. Thanks to the darkness hiding most of the repulsive nature of the complex, the place looked more like a traditional European food fair than the best result of Muggle slave labour. Lanterns were tacked onto the first floor balconies, illuminating the ground red, blue and yellow. The smells of borscht and piroshky flooded Charles’s nose. There was singing, dancing, and upbeat chatter all around that would’ve overwhelmed him had he not had a period of solitude to himself. _

_ Charles greeted a few of the people surrounding him, recognising some immediately if not in the Dark Army themselves, very strong allies. He had a kebab, a chicken Kyiv and managed to get the last of the borscht, earning him a very bitter look from a five-year-old. After he had his fill, he slipped away from the festivities as quietly as he could before someone grabbed him by the shoulder. _

_ “Missed me, Prentiss?” _

_ The fact that those words were spoken in German startled and relieved him. Russian may have been his medium of instruction for the better part of a decade and a half now, but he could never feel as comfortable in it as he did his father tongue. Those words on their own, however, made his heart sink until he turned to face the person that addressed him. _

_ He cleared his throat, trying to process the information in front of him. Long brown hair, dark brown eyes, and the moonlight illuminating her pallid skin. He found himself unable to swallow, and whatever words sprouted out of his mouth were incoherent at best, gibberish at worst. She raised a brow at him, saying, “No, I didn’t expect you here either. Sokol’s doing, I presume?” _

_ Charles shook his head. “No. Lestrange’s.” They both knew he was too stupid for Ksenia. He took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “I thought you fled the continent.” _

_ “With a name like mine? No. Once I leave I can never come home. Might as well take advantage of the opportunities already here.” _

_“What? You’re part of the Dark Army now?”_  

_ She pursed her lips and exhaled heavily. “Only fools choose to take sides in this farce of a war. Sokol is a bitch and Vorstenbach is a maniac. Both are destined to lose.” _

_ “How Slushatel of you,” Charles remarked grimly. He wished he had food left because Merlin, how he’d grown to hate the feeling of having nothing to do with his hands. “So, uh, how are you?” _

_ “How am I, Prentiss? I’m peachy. Just peachy.” She took a step closer to him, and he could feel her breath on his skin. “The bigger question is how are  _ you? _ Brainwashed to fight for a man who has little regard for you or for any other except for his wife?” _

_ Charles’s hand began to tremble. “You think I don’t already know that? I’m just doing what I have to do to survive.” He faltered and let his eyes meet hers. “I too have a question for you: how on earth have you managed for the past five years?” _

_ “You should know from daddy dearest that there’s nothing a little money and some fancy wand-waving won’t fix.” She gave him a feigned smile. “I hope you’ve forgiven Fourth for what she did.” _

_“Who?”_  

_ “The…  _ person  _ who attacked you on your date with Wagner. Speaking of… how is she? And your son?” _

  _Shrugging his shoulders, Charles said through gritted teeth, “I’ve forgiven her long ago and I don’t know. I haven’t seen them since the War began.”_

_ “Pity. Perhaps if the War hadn’t begun and you hadn’t picked a side, you would be the one painting white picket fences with her, not O’Malley.” _

_ “Funny, considering it was never her I imagined that sort of life with, assuming I could ever have that sort of life.” That had been the truth: whatever romantic attachments he had for Dommi had long since disappeared. His hand rose to touch her face, but she swatted it away. “I love you, you know.” _

_ “Don’t fucking remind me.” _

_ “I’m not expecting you to reciprocate. I’m not expecting you to do anything about it because I was an awful person. You don’t have to forgive me and I’ll understand.” He stepped away from her in the general direction of his unit. “I wanted to see if we could be  _ civil,  _ Liddy. Merlin knows when I’ll see you again.  _ If  _ I ever see you again. I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry.” _

_ Charles turned away, biting his lip as he fought the urge to kiss her firmly on the mouth. He didn’t have time to worry about her, not when there were so many deals left to be made. _

* * *

_ 06.00 November 4th, Year 20: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters – Meeting Room #5 _

“On a scale of one to ten, how likely do you think the mole is still alive?” Kait asked, propping her ankles on the desk.

Lena swatted them away, rolling her eyes as her friend growled at her. “Considering they’ve been outsmarting us for the last twenty years, maybe a hundred.”

“We don’t actually know that they’ve been in the Side for that long,” Anya said, “they could be a mole recently, or perhaps they’re not with us anymore and retreated back to the Army, or maybe they could have been caught in the crossfire and died in Helsinki.”

“Ow, Anya, those are way too many possibilities,” Lora said, grabbing her head. “Even I’m not comfortable with that, and I think… I think we can all feel when we’ve finally gotten rid of the mole because we’re so deep into this, you know, and I don’t think we have.”

“Dammit,” Kait hissed. “And here I thought we didn’t have to go through everyone in the entire goddamn Side to find out who it was.”

“What makes you think we’re going to do that?” Anya frowned. She turned to Lora and began admiring her new haircut.

“Because Lena is Lena,” Kait murmured, tossing her hair back. The blonde in question sighed, rolling her eyes before deciding that fighting with the former Hrabrost was a battle waiting to be lost. “It’s not the most efficient strategy, but it’s one that, with our screening process, be the most likely to capture the killer. Unless of course, one or more of us Seven Devils is compromised.”

“No one’s managed to fail any of the failsafe questions yet,” Lora observed, taking out her notepad. “Though if it’s alright, I would like to ask you a favour. Kait, Lena, please refrain from asking ridiculously sexual questions to your significant others. Okay, we get it, you have a lot of sex and that’s  _ none of our business,  _ but I have a child’s naïve ear and I’d rather have it out of earshot.”

“Says someone who was already pregnant at eighteen.”

“Let’s stop bickering for two seconds and think,” Lena announced, placing a Muggle pen to parchment. “When did the attacks start to change in frequency? I’m not talking about the one eighteen years ago because we ran out of ammo and wands. I mean the ones after that.”

“War isn’t like our menstrual cycles. You can’t just ask – “

“I should clarify: when did the attacks seem more personalised, as if they knew exactly what they were doing when they attacked us?”

“Bit difficult to tell when they’ve gone to school with you for seven years and watched you duel for nearly as long.”

Lena exhaled in dismay. “Okay, I get it. It seems a bit pointless. But surely there must be something that triggered it all. Something, anything…” Her hand balled into a fist. “Twenty years is too long for a ruse. Not without getting caught.” Here, the Light Queen paused before she continued. “Snape played both sides for sixteen years before he got caught… actually you can argue he was caught  _ before  _ then. The Illegals Program in Muggle USSR lasted for ages too but loads of people got caught…”

“Wait, are we looking for one person or multiple?”

“Merlin knows.” Kait used her wand to Summon some crisps from the kitchen and began munching on them as she began to speak. “Alternatively, someone could be doing it at first. Then they died in battle, but by that time they’ve already trained someone to continue their work.” She shrugged her shoulders and continued to eat. “I’m starving.”

“That’s not a bad idea at all,” Anya agreed, her lips forming a hesitant but small smile. “I’m surprised Yusikova being a mole hasn’t crossed their minds at all, actually.”

“I’m sure it has, but the woman gives away nothing,” Lena said, ignoring Kait’s open-mouthed crunching and Lora joining her to do so. Never a close friend of the woman at school, the former Uchitel was surprised that she was still so loyal to the cause despite everything that has occurred to her. “You can’t be in the same country as Ksenia Sokol and ignore the fact that women are powerful.”

“Unless you’re Jarlan Lestrange,” Kait piped in, smirking at the way her friend wrinkled her nose at her talking, “I’ve heard  _ stories,  _ okay? He’s not much better than either Sicarius brother, or Montague.”

“At least Lestrange didn’t do something as stupid as beat up his betrothed,” Lora approved, “I’m surprised Montague lasted as long as he did.” She cleared her throat, “Aside, I think we should go ahead with the original plan and interrogate everyone. Maybe someone in this camp  _ knows  _ something, and that’s doing a lot better than just planning chess moves no one’s going to use.”

“I’m convinced someone knows something,” Lena replied, “I’m sure of it.”   
“Whether they’ll give it up is another thing altogether.” Kait zipped the crisp packet closed with a wave of her hand and sat up on the chair, feet firmly on the ground. “I do have some concerns which I’d like to share with the group. May I?” Lena gave her a curt nod. “After Finland, we’ve lost a lot of great Interrogators and we’re lacking numbers. We need  _ more people,  _ Vorstenbach. We need more training, and more ammunition, and we need you to start using your Illusionist abilities a tad more.”

“I thought Chara Bellamy had spoken to you about – “

“That’s  _ one person.  _ We barely have enough at Headquarters. We need an Interrogator in all the auxiliary camps and sleeper cells. Fridolf is dying and she’s the only Healer as good as O’Malley east of the Danube, and with the attacks we’re supposed to be planning on East Ukraine  _ which we still need to get to, by the way –  _ ”

“Are more attacks really necessary? We need to recover from Helsinki.”

“Still?”

“Yes!” Lora’s vehemence had begun to bubble to the surface. “We need to stop attacking things and start strategizing  _ properly.  _ Raids are fine. Rescue missions are fine. But entire countries are out of the question, Kait.” She pressed a finger to Lena’s lips. “Don’t you  _ dare  _ interrupt me, Edmunds. We’re still trying to assimilate Finland with much resistance from South Karelia as expected and you’re  _ still  _ trying to get East Ukraine? Not on my watch.”

“Lora’s right. I’m doing a supply drop to Oulu next week,” Anya said. “I can do a more thorough inspection of Helsinki then if you allow me to.”

“Get Aigner to go with you.” Lena commanded immediately, standing up. “You know what? Make him come here. Kait and Frodo can get to him first. We get him checked out and then let them go.”

The blonde strode towards the whiteboard, scribbling down a bunch of names. On the board, familiar and unfamiliar names were etched out by the jet blank ink. Anya tilted her head as she inspected some of them.  _ Chara Bellamy. Laetitia Bellamy. Kristin Eberhart. Pierre Lamoureux. Seamus O’Malley – _

“Seamus?” Lora echoed. “I thought Laetitia was ridiculous considering her relationship with Prentiss, but Seamus – “

“Laetitia sounds like the perfect candidate, if I have to be completely honest,” Anya said, “she could have passed down her knowledge to Chara.”

“Why not Luke?” Kait questioned.

“She simply didn’t trust him enough,” Lena replied, closing the cap on the marker. “We all saw it at school, didn’t we? How Luke got away with fuck all yet Chara managed to not stray one toe out of line yet everyone knew otherwise – “

“Too many year groups between us,” Kait interrupted, “I wouldn’t have cared. But okay, why would Laetitia Bellamy be the perfect candidate?”

“Close enough to Leon Prentiss that she would know how to carry out a long con if she needed to, and she was apathetic about the whole cause anyway.” Lora shook her head. “Half of these names wouldn’t even benefit the mole if they were with the Dark Army. And wasn’t Eberhart a mole anyway?”

“She was,” Anya verified. She and the blonde leader exchanged looks, and it was only the fact that the four women knew each other so well that this was noticed. “I don’t think Le’s done with the diagram yet.”

“Of course she isn’t,” Kait scoffed. She waved her hand around and drew connecting lines between the names Lena had etched on the board. Lines for friends, dotted for family members, dashed for enemies, etcetera. “There. How’s this for a diagram?”

Lena shook her head, closing the cap of her pen and pacing in front of the board. “There’s still too many possibilities. I don’t like it.”

“You started a war twenty years ago over a petty argument, which  _ none of us asked for, by the way _ , and we’re still here,” Kait spat, “we’re just going to do the thing we all said we were going to do twenty minutes ago: we interrogate everyone and see what we can do from there. Agreed?”

The three other women nodded firmly.


	18. 4C: November 2080 + October 2072

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Though the talk at Beauxbatons seemed to have had results. Rumour has it there has been an influx of Scientist applications to the bases in Paris, Berlin and Vienna.”
> 
> “Cool. Can we talk about that later? We’re sort of being attacked by Daggerbutt’s forces and this is really not the time.”

_06.15 November 13_ _th_ _, Year 20:_ _16ème arrondissement, Paris, France_

“What sort of thing can break shields like that?” Taden mused verbally, only to switch his focus back into casting protective charms over the flat.

Dylan took a brief break from his spellcasting as he could feel his mental faculties fading. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard of the potions they’ve been developing in Bulgaria that can dissolve wards like salt does in water. I suppose this is a chance to show that they’re practical and not just the wayward theory of meddling madmen.”

“I’ve heard,” Taden said grimly. He saw yet another vial headed in their direction and was relieved when his Reducto Charm managed to hit it right at the base and caused the vial to crack in two, the liquid raining on the attackers. He could hear the shrieks and a chill ran up his spine.

“Honestly, Taden, it’s a wonder we haven’t put our focus into it yet considering the damage it could do to all our bases. There aren’t enough Scientists at Headquarters for the resources we have.” Dylan picked up his wand again, muttering Protego Maxima several times as he saw numerous spells head in his protégé’s direction. “Though the talk at Beauxbatons seemed to have had results. Rumour has it there has been an influx of Scientist applications to the bases in Paris, Berlin and Vienna.”

Taden dodged an incoming Reducto, jumping when it hit a spot several feet behind him. “Cool. Can we talk about that later? We’re sort of being attacked by Daggerbutt’s forces and this is really not the time.”

“Understandable,” Dylan concurred. He fired a few Curses at his enemies beneath them – rule number one of dealing with him, of course, was to make oneself invisible – and gave a lazy, satisfied smirk when one of them complained of being on fire. Using the free time he had, he started repairing the broken wards, trying to build up on the fragments that remained.

The door behind them swung open. “W – What the hell is going on here?”

Thank Merlin for Taden and Dylan that Jakob was a bit of an early riser himself. Though the man was very dishevelled and in his night clothes, the Head Scientist spent no time updating on the situation in as few words as he could muster.

“I think I’ll stay here and set up the wards,” Jakob decided, giving Dylan and Taden each a firm nod. “Wells, I suggest you wake the Rousseaus up.” He snickered. “I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy, but – “

“I’m on it,” Taden replied. He rushed back inside, slamming the door shut behind him. After casting Locking Charms on all the windows and doors leading out of the apartment, he entered Julian and Ondrea’s room, shaking the former awake.

“Huh? Wha – “

“The flat is under attack. We don’t have enough time.” Taden then left the room to go to the one adjacent to it, where Alaina was already packing most of her things into a backpack. “You’re quick to catch on,” the blond observed, tossing her a few items she’d laid out on the bed.

“I heard the shields and wards break and I knew I had to do something,” Alaina said, deciding to Summon everything in one ago and shove them into her bag in one fell swoop. “Besides, I couldn’t sleep. Are my parents awake?”

“I managed to get your father up,” Taden replied, beginning to pace. “I think this is enough, Alaina. Even with an Undetectable Extension Charm in there, it’ll take too much time to get everything in the flat in here. We have to get your parents and try and stop anyone from breaking and entering.”

“Okay.” Alaina slung the straps around her shoulders, grabbed her wand, and began to leave her room. She took a few steps back, stopping right in front of the blond who started to follow her. “You spoke everything in perfect French, by the way.”

Taden’s features relaxed into a wide grin. There was a loud noise – the cracking of glass – and he began following the girl out of the room.

“I’ll get my parents, and you keep the others safe,” Alaina said. 

The blond nodded, heading out towards the noise. When he saw other shadowy figures on the balcony, he cursed furiously before ducking beneath the sink to ensure that he would be safe. He dampened the urge to send a Patronus to Alaina warning her; doing so would just earn him a one-way ticket to getting caught.

_ If only he had the two-way mirror Dylan had so he could contact Headquarters –  _

_ The mirror! _ Taden slunk out of his hiding place and ran as quickly, silently, noiselessly as he could to reach Dylan’s room. When he was halfway there, the door behind him unlocked, slamming with a thud to the wall as the intruders stormed in. Seeing that Alaina was still trying to get her parents up to snuff, he snuck into their room and shut the door as quietly as he could, pressing a finger to his lips when Alaina frowned at him.

“Wells is meant to be here!” someone bellowed. There was the smashing of plates and the plodding of boots. “Where is he, Veer?”

“How would I know? He could’ve gone back to bed.”  _ Thwack. _ “That’s none of my business.”

“Doesn’t matter. Borisov, go find him and the Rousseaus. Those Mudbloods must be in here somewhere.”

Taden could tell that these were  _ definitely  _ some of the newest Dark Army recruits. That made the fight ever so slightly easier. He turned to face Alaina, beckoning her to him, and cast a Disillusionment Charm over them both. Julian and Ondrea did the same, only on the other side of the door to hide them from view. The blond was counting his breaths, trying to control their pace and volume until the door swung open.

It took him all of his willpower not to Avada the man when he saw the state that Dylan was in, Borisov grabbing him by the shoulders. The attackers must have taken a leaf out of the Muggles’ books, which Taden found amusing considering how much they seemed to belittle them. He could feel the Charm slowly wearing off as his rage simmered, so he cast it one more time over him and Alaina.

The second attacker seemed to be sniffing the air. “There are definitely  _ people  _ in here, Ivanovich. I can smell them – “

“You should probably do something about that,” Ivanovich scoffed. “I don’t see anyone in here. Let’s just take the Professor and the von Bergen and be done with it.”

“The Dark Lord will be so pleased!”

Taden was about to fire a curse at the two attackers, but thankfully, Jakob had gotten to it first, Stunning Ivanovich and sending him stumbling forwards. This gave Taden time to rush from his position to lunge towards Dylan, narrowly avoiding Borisov’s arms as he grabbed his mentor and ran away from the room.

“W – We need the mirror,” the blond mumbled, jogging towards his mentor’s room.  _ “Your  _ mirror. We need to get Headquarters and let them know about the breach fast – “

The Head Scientist immediately cut his mentee off. “We shouldn’t get Headquarters involved. This is much too small scale of an attack and they still need to recover after Helsinki.” Dylan slammed the door to his room shut. “Jakob’s already gotten Magda and Johanna to come. That should be enough.”

“But we should let them know we’ve been compromised. You have a black eye – “

“Shush. Borisov is coming.” They both snuck behind the door, feet light as a feather. Just as Taden noticed his Disillusionment Charm wearing off, he stuck his arm into Borisov’s view, yelling, “Lumos Maxima!”

The view blinded him for a moment, and that was enough time for Dylan to flee from the room and rush to the Rousseaus’ aid. He saw Jakob keeping guard outside the flat, still repairing the damage the wards had received. The look on the man’s face was too grave for anyone’s liking, and as Dylan turned back, he could see jets of light coming from his room.

“Leave them,” Jakob said, his voice full of trepidation, “get Julian and Ondrea to help you restrain Ivanovich. If he is as I imagine him to be, he’s probably susceptible to the Verdimilious Charm.”

Dylan bobbed his head. “Will do.” His feet took him to where he needed to be, but his heart tugged at somewhere else entirely. The former Slushatel ignored it as he cast numerous Incarcerous spells on Ivanovich. He swore he saw a jet of green light behind him, but he chose to ignore it.

* * *

_19.30 November 7_ _th_ _, Year 20:_ _Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters_

Rhys brushed the hair out of his wife’s face as she stood from the dinner table, plate half-empty. “Do you really have to do this right after dinner? Can’t you wait another half an hour?”

“Kait and I scheduled this two days ago,” the blonde said, bending down to kiss his forehead. “If you had a problem with it then, you should’ve spoken to one of us about it. Besides, yours will come soon enough.”

“Not looking forward to it,” the ginger grumbled. Two pairs of blue eyes met and they both shared a knowing giggle. He leaned up to give his wife a chaste peck on the lips, his thumb brushing her cheek. “I love you, but we’ve lost so much time.”

“I love you too, you carrot,” the Queen whispered, “too much time, I think.” She turned to face her daughter, who was now napping on his lap. “Make sure that – “

“She’ll be in bed before you even get to The Box. I’ll make sure of it.”

As the blonde left her family behind, the blonde smoothed out her robes and made her way down the stairs and through the long corridor –  _ for Merlin’s sake, Ineesa, Alex, I didn’t have to see that  _ – to The Box. Gently pushing the door open, she tried not to burst into laughter since Kait had one of her many game faces on. It would have terrified most individuals, but the former Head Girl knew her friend far too well.

“Name, date of birth, and occupation,” Kait demanded as Lena slid into her seat.

“Lena Marie Johanna Vorstenbach. Eighteenth of April twenty forty-two.” She paused, frowning. “Light Queen.”

“The subject today – whoever she claims to be – is being Interrogated on the charges of being a suspected mole for the Dark Army against the Light Side. This is found unconstitutional according to Chapter 4 of the Penal Code, Section VI…”

This was yet another one of those moments where Lena wished she wasn’t bound by oath to  _ not  _ suffocate Kaitlen Merkulova when she annoyed her. She tapped her fingers on the desk, trying to imitate her friend’s facial expressions. The Hrabrost’s voice did not waver as she made the perfunctory speech. Once she was finished, she slammed Lena’s wand on the table. The blonde almost screamed in rage despite the fact that, in all fairness, she would have survived just fine without it and she had plenty of spares.

“What House were you in when you attended Durmstrang and what year did you graduate?”

“Uchitel, class of twenty sixty.”

“Do you have any ideas, suggestions,  _ inklings  _ on who could have  _ possibly  _ leaked our whereabouts, ammunition, research or any other intelligence to the Dark Army or other opposing third parties?”

“No,” Lena replied, trying not to burst as Kait’s finger gently poked her nose.

“Tell me, what is your opinion with the Light Side, putting your position aside?”

“Rather positive, considering I created it.”

And so the questioning continued, with Kait asking Lena borderline inappropriate questions about her personal life and the blonde’s fingers digging deep into the wood answer as she gave short, bemused answers. The interrogation – or ‘interview’, as Kait preferred to call it – lasted an hour before Kait turned off the recording and sat on the table, crossing her legs as she regarded her best friend.

“I can say for certain that you are most definitely not the mole,” the brunette said, grinning. “Shame, really. Would have been a hell of a plot twist if it was.”

“If you conclude otherwise I would’ve stabbed you,” Lena replied primly. Her fingers finally unfurled themselves from the wood and she inspected her nails for splinters. “To be fair, if you had let this last a moment longer, I probably would’ve stabbed you anyway.”

Kait let out a very sing-song laugh and poked her friend’s nose again. “But you didn’t, because you need me to train the Bellamy twin to perfection and to interview anyone else. Also because you love me and cherish me so much Frodo will turn green with envy if he ever finds out.” With a wave of her hand, she Summoned two cups of jasmine tea. After adding two sugar cubes for her friend, she said, “I did have a look from the transcripts of the rest of today’s interviews, the findings of which I assume you’d like me to go through with you?”

“By all means,” Lena agreed, sitting up and taking a sip of her tea.

“Well, the first one was Johanna von Bergen, who looked at me weird for half of the interview before I realised, hold on a second, she’s a Squib, and kept whining about how she wanted to go home to tend to her cows in Austria. Fro and I ruled her out because although she has the means to travel around, it would be far too obvious for her to go around Dark Army territory the way she does in a Ferrari.”

The blonde gave a bitter chuckle. “Yes, she does have a fondness for Beatrice. Still, an investigation that is too thorough is much better than one that isn’t. Next?”

“Aubrey Yusikova.” The both of them let the name hover between them, and Kait cleared their throat. “I’m quite aware of the complicated role she has and the fact that’s meant to slip them information made the conversation quite… heated.” She cocked her head, asking Lena to stand up and follow her several doors down to the Memory Room. “I’m surprised she gave me a copy of the memories of the meetings she has with Belikova and Sokol just in case. She’s convinced her time will be up soon, or at least that’s what I think she means.”

“Did she say why?”

“Not sure. She just said that she thinks that her usefulness as a double agent will come to an end and she’ll have to pick sides.” She shrugged her shoulders, taking one of the memories that she received earlier that day and showing it to the blonde. “Yusikova clearly knows something that for whatever reason she felt she could not share with us on record. Perhaps if you went and spoke to her – “

“ – I’ll make a note.” The blonde twirled a lock of blonde hair around her finger. “You haven’t ruled her out, now have you?” Kait shook her head. “You don’t really think she fully defected to Daggerbutt, but you still think there’s something going on.” The brunette nodded. “I’ll speak to her as soon as I can.”

“After this, please have a look at the memory,” the former Hrabrost piped in, “I think whatever she wants to tell you is in it.”

Kait and Lena then discussed Luke Bellamy (‘far too clueless to know much, I mean, really’), Aino Nikkala (‘she’s  _ three,  _ Lena’), and finally, the Light Queen’s own interview. Though Frodo will regard his best friend’s replies with a grain of salt, Kait did have a few things to say.

“You sounded like you wanted to murder me. That’s going to bite your ass in court.”

“Don’t I normally sound like that?”

“You do, but a Jury who are meant to be  _ unbiased,  _ as in  _ not know you at all,  _ wouldn’t know apples from oranges when it comes to you,” Kait pointed out, Summoning their cups of tea from the other room as her fingers grew nervous. “I know that we’re not bad investigators and we can get to the bottom of this, but you like preparing for the worst case scenario and this is about as bad as we can get.”

Lena found her tea was cold, and did a nonverbal Warming Charm until it suited her and she took a sip. “Like you said, it would be one hell of a twist if I  _ was  _ the mole.”

“If the public knew how you started the whole mess, it wouldn’t add up. You might want to do something about that, you know. Curry things in your favour.” 

The clock struck ten. Kait finished the last of her tea, set the cup and saucer on a desk, and straightened her trousers. “We both better sleep soon. Morning won’t be kind to either of us.”

Lena gave her a curt nod, “You? Sleep early? Only in another universe.” Her friend was itching to interrupt, but the blonde cut her off. “I’ll tend to Ana soon, but I have a feeling that Rhys is asleep and I’d rather not rouse him. In the meantime, I’ll have a look at the memory if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure thing,” the Hrabrost said. She smiled at her friend before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

Meanwhile, the blonde placed the memory in the divot next to the pool of water and watched the memory flow from the vial to the main body of the Pensieve. She then took a deep breath, and dipped her head into the water.

* * *

_ 12.07 October 3 _ _ rd _ _ , Year 12: Docentribis Institute _

_ The lessons at school were beginning to dull Vanka’s mind. Lena had taught her most of these things when she was in their First Year – and so did Ellie, Nick and Nessie – and they had passed their First Year exams without a hitch. Äiti had been proud, but Vanka knew too well that her mind often lay elsewhere.  _

_ A border could be drawn between those who clearly thought the Light Side had the short end of the stick and who didn’t by second year. The Krums tried to make strong allies out of Vanka and Nick, but neither of them were having it. Still, it didn’t stop them from being particularly persistent. Thank Merlin that Alex was a very effective barricade partially because his reputation for being downright terrifying had made its way throughout the school and partially because he was said to be too handsome not to say no to. _

_ Privately, Vanka agreed. _

_ Nessie yawned by the time lunch hit, snoring on the bench while Vanka, Ellie, Nick and Alex continued to eat. The Bellamy twins and Ashley rushed to join them shortly after, trying to avoid Claudius Sicarius and his cronies. Nick rushed to Ashley’s aid, protecting her by sending a strong Stunning Spell thirty yards away from her attackers, and the boy’s body smacked against the entrance of the Hall. _

_ “You alright?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She nodded, blushing. _

_ Cordelia – or was it Cornelia? Vanka wondered when the twins were going to develop separate personalities – sat next to Ellie, edging the blonde out of the conversation. “Is everyone at this school so rude?” Cordelia asked, crossing her ankles. “We told mother that people do curse each other for fun in halls, and she didn’t believe us.” She flashed a still-bleeding wound at her friend. “At least we have proof now.” _

_ “What on earth?” Ellie gasped, running her hand through satchel to find a piece of cotton wool and plaster. “Cordelia,” the girl scolded, rubbing the wound clean with rubbing alcohol and then blotting the area surrounding it with iodine. “Running around with bleeding wounds is ridiculously dangerous. Remember to cast an Episkey as soon as you get hurt like that, okay?” _

_ “Okay, but that’s not going to stop people from cursing each other,” Cordelia pouted, “that girl Maja is  _ awful.  _ She keeps going on and on about how she’s going to marry Jarlan Lestrange. Like anyone wants to marry such an awful boy.” _

_ Nick choked on his water, and Ashley rubbed his back to make sure he was okay. The motion was enough for Nessie to rouse from her slumber, though it wasn’t long before she was gone again. Vanka gave Ellie an amused look. The girl had just frozen, pretending that she hadn’t heard her junior and began packing her supplies into her satchel. “Y – Yes, Jarlan is an awful boy indeed.” _

_ “That’s why our parents teach us extra things outside of school,” Alex piped in, placing a protective hand on Cordelia’s shoulder. Ellie gleamed at him, “I know your mother doesn’t want you to take on the lessons with us, but it’s a war. You need all of the preparation you can get.” _

_ “Of course we’d love to!” Cornelia agreed, her head tilted upwards. “But Cordelia’s right. We’re not allowed to be taught extra things with you guys  _ out _ side of school or we risk mother’s wrath…” _

_ “So why don’t you teach us  _ in  _ school?” Cordelia finished for her twin, grinning. _

_ Alex and Vanka exchanged glances, and then smirks. “Why, that’s a great idea,” Alex replied, knowing for the first time in a while exactly what he was going to do after school that day. _

_ 15.50 _

_ “Come on! We only have ten minutes before the Portkey opens!” Alex exclaimed, rushing to heal as much of Cordelia and Cornelia as he could Ellie was helping him, mumbling several healing spells. “Pay attention to how Ellie and I treating you. Knowing how to heal minor injuries in battle might save time and your life.” _

_ Vanka was pacing back and forth at the back of the classroom on the lookout for any of the Dark Army’s spawn, still relatively unharmed from today’s spat. Alex had chosen to take it slow in order to ease the Bellamy twins into training. Though they had been fairly hesitant about throwing hexes and jinxes at each other at first, their laughter soon echoed the wall as they aimed Rictusempras at each other. Both twins were surprisingly good, given their circumstances, but they were Bellamys. They had always been good at offence, no matter how much they tried to deny it. _

_ The blonde knew that Alex could probably train Duellists one day – Äiti constantly marvelled at how good he could get – but he’d always wanted to be in Intelligence. “Imagine all the travel I get to do,” he’d told her, “I get to see the world.” _

_ “But that’s what battles are for,” she’d replied. He chose not to grace her with a response. _

_ In her momentary blip from vigilance, Vanka almost missed Donnica’s tiny figure running across the hallway, armed with her brother and Claudius. Wand at the ready, she turned back once more, ensuring that both twins, Nessie, Alex and Ellie were safe, before she fired off a relatively strong Expulso in their attackers’ direction. _

_ “Vanka, what the hell – “ _

_ “Stupefy! Sectumsempra! Serpensortia!” Claudius began firing off a barrage of spells, as expected. The boy was far too fond of putting all of his cards on the table. Vanka managed to dodge out of the spells in time, firing an Incarcerous at the snake which thankfully hit. She slammed the door to the classroom shut, leading Donnica, Jarlan and Claudius away to the corridor heading in the opposite direction. They had always been much more focused on her than they were on collateral damage, and the blonde was nothing if not resourceful. _

_ Meanwhile, Alex could hear the ruckus going on outside. His teeth were clenched and his hand gripped his wand firmly. “Dammit, Vanka!” he yelled, walking out of the classroom, eyes and wand ready to fight. After instructing Ellie to take the twins home on the four o’clock Portkey with or without them, the boy sprinted out of the classroom. Following the Stupefy that ricocheted off the walls, he found Vanka cornered by the three attackers. _

_ “Alex,” Vanka hissed, trying to dodge all of their spells by curling up into a ball on the floor, “get the fuck out – “ _

_ “Tarantallegra!” Claudius bellowed. Alex jumped over the spell and attacked him with an accurate Disarming spell, which was effective. Donnica and Jarlan turned around to face him, and in that split second, Vanka rushed away from her corner and punched the back of Jarlan’s head. He didn’t fall, but he definitely had trouble keeping her head up. _

_ “You’re such a Mudblood, Vorstenbach,” Donnica purred. Vanka could feel the blood in her veins curdle. As she idly wondered whether there was a curse that existed to do such a thing, Alex Stunned the other girl, grabbed her arm and ran back towards the classroom. _

_ They were both relieved when Ellie and the twins were still there. The boy could barely look at the blonde as they both Portkeyed back to Headquarters. He then took her to a corner table in the Dining Hall, folding his arms on the table. _

_ “What the fuck were you thinking, Vanka?” he growled. “You know your Äiti would have had my head on a stick if we didn’t manage to Portkey ourselves back in time – “ _

_ “ – I needed to fight them; they were obviously out to hurt us again! You saw they were heading right towards me the moment they saw me!” Vanka’s hands were now fists. “I’m not going to just stand around and wait for them to make the first move, Alex. I have to stop them. I am not going to rest – “ _

_ “ – until you see Donnica’s body dead, broken and bleeding on the ground.” Alex ran his hand through his hair. “Vanka, I’m worried about you. I know that we’re in the middle of war but you’re looking for fights where there are none.” _

_ Vanka’s laugh was every bit as hollow and bitter as her aunt’s. “You saw them go after me and you still think I’m looking for trouble? Alex? Really?” _

_ “Your obsession with Donnica is…” He cleared his throat at her glare and reconsidered his words. “I think you need to take a step back and look at what it’s doing to you. You guys haven’t even gone to battle yet and you hate her. She’s just a kid, just like you, Vanka.” _

_ “But her parents killed Rhys!” the blonde snarled. “They killed Äiti’s most precious possession and she is just like them! Cruel, heartless, a fucking bitch! I don’t just hate her, Alex. I despise her with every fibre of my being! I want her body hung, drawn and quartered just like her parents!” _

_ “Vanka, are you sure you feel that way?” _

_ “I don’t feel this way towards her!” she shrieked, slamming her palm onto his. She paused, squeezed his hand, and stood up. “I – I’m sorry, Alex.” _

_ “Vanka – “ _

_ “Just leave it.” Her hand shook as she turned away, and Alex had trouble swallowing the guilt in his throat. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you get the carrot joke you get a cookie


	19. 4D: November 2080

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Like I said, I’m going to try and understand blood wards in the library. Feel free to join me when you’ve suddenly redeveloped a vested interest in your schoolwork.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Discussion and portrayal of violent themes in this chapter

 

 _16.40 November 9_ _th_ _, Year 20:_ _Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters_

Cordelia walked out of The Box feeling rather…  _ cold _ . She knew that Interrogation was a tough place to be and that she was never going to be as cold as Frodo Merkulov or as nuts as Kaitlen Merkulova, but to believe that she was going to go from herself to one of  _ them  _ was a metamorphosis that she couldn’t comprehend.

She wouldn’t let such doubts cloud her ambition. When Auntie Chara had  _ finally  _ given the okay for her to start training, she’d almost abandoned all of her schoolwork in order to show her aunt that she had been right to let her in. Cornelia had to remind her twin on a regular basis about schoolwork that needed to be done but it all seemed so insignificant considering how everything seemed to escalate the moment Charles Prentiss walked into Headquarters.

When Cordelia arrived at the Dining Hall, Cornelia was already sitting cross-legged on one of the benches, offering her a sandwich when she sat down. Cordelia took it and inspected its contents. Egg mayo. One of her favourites.

“So, did Mrs. Merkulova say anything to you after your interview?” Cordelia asked, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“No,” Cornelia said, “she just thanked me for my time and told me to leave the room.”

“At least you had her and not Mr. Merkulov,” her twin replied, shuddering. “He told me thanks for coming, you’re all good, but by the way, you need to start practicing Occlumency more often if you’re going to last more than a day in the Dark Army Lair.”

“That is scary. And what do you mean? You already practice it with me every day!”

“Well, that’s not good enough for him, but let’s not talk about that right now.” Cordelia poured herself a glass of water. “What do you think all this questioning is about?”

“Beats me. They’re probably trying to make sure that everyone’s mental faculties are up to standards.” Cornelia fiddled with her empty juice box, her gaze unwavering from the bright blue packaging. “That would explain why the Queen had to be interviewed.”

Cordelia could feel the gears in her mind beginning to turn. “Since when – “

“Ellie told me about it.” Cornelia lifted her eyes to meet her twin’s. “Actually, that  _ is _ strange. You don’t know if something’s going on, is there?”

“I don’t  _ know, _ but it doesn’t mean that something isn’t going on that they’re not telling us.” Cordelia rested her chin on the palm of her hand. “I’m convinced that it has to do with Charles Prentiss,” she whispered, switching to Mandarin, “I think he’s the reason Headquarters has been so chaotic recently.”

“Seriously, Cordelia? We’re not going to have this conversation again – “

“It makes sense, though. A well-known Dark Army wizard just  _ wandering  _ into Headquarters. Do you know how  _ ridiculous  _ that sounds? I think he’s got something to do with all of the mayhem that’s been happening lately. Even Mum thinks so.”

“Even if he does, it’s not like you’ve got anything to prove it,” Cornelia said. “Anyway, I’ve had a look at your Potions essay and you’ve got approximately five-hundred more words to go and not much left to write so you better think of something fast because I’m not letting you flunk anything or Auntie will have both of our heads on a silver platter.”

“That can wait! This is important. Maybe this is what Mr. Merkulov and Mrs. Merkulova need help with: trying to find Charles Prentiss’s motives.”

“If that was the case, those weren’t the questions they asked. And for fuck’s sake, can you at least  _ try  _ and do your essay? I already got the books and required reading sorted out for you.” Cornelia put the books on the table along with a piece of rolled parchment, tossing it to her sister before opening up a journal and scanning its contents.

“Then why do you think they asked those questions? What end goal would those questions achieve? They probably think someone is collaborating with him to do some sort of end goal. He’s probably trying to bring us all down from the inside by getting to Auntie Dommi first, use her as leverage and lure us into some sort of trap.” Poking her twin’s shoulder, Cordelia frowned, “Hey! Are you listening to me?”

Cornelia turned the page, “Can you repeat all of that? I’m trying to figure out all of this research Professor Hansoff did on blood wards – “

“Ugh, you’re  _ such  _ a Scientist.”

“You were a Scientist literally a month ago, Cordelia.”

“I thought you were going to be a Healer, Cornelia. That’s what you told Mum.”

“It was my back-up because there were no more places in that department,  _ according to you.” _ Cornelia slammed her journal shut. “Turns out that there were  _ plenty  _ of places not just in Headquarters, but in Paris, Berlin and Vienna. Well, guess who just submitted their application to go work in Vienna. When I get it, I can finally experience the outside world in a situation that  _ doesn’t  _ involve rotting bodies and I can help the Eastern front.” She stood from the desk, chin held high as she looked down at her sister. “Like I said, I’m going to try and understand blood wards in the library. Feel free to join me when you’ve suddenly redeveloped a vested interest in your schoolwork.”

Cordelia watched her sister leave, two trains of thought trying not to crash into each other. Taking another bite of her sandwich, she ran her free hand through her hair, cursing herself. Cornelia had always been the more pragmatic one, all façades aside. She gobbled down the rest of her sandwich when she saw Mr. Merkulov head in her direction. As he sat facing her, she straightened her back and greeted him curtly.

“I’m guessing you found out about your sister’s interest in leaving Headquarters,” he said.

“I didn’t know she had such interests,” Cordelia replied, her heart still pounding from her sister’s revelation. “I didn’t even know she wanted to be a Scientist, what with her constant drawing and writing and singing – ” She cleared her throat. “Rule number one of interrogation: people will always surprise you. You just have to minimise the chances of that happening.”

“That’s right,” Mr. Merkulov nodded, “I find that the people you know best tend to surprise you the most just because you happen to trust them to tell you things.” He patted her shoulder. “You’re not an awful person just because you didn’t know about your sister, you know. I barely know anything about mine.”

“But it’s different.”

“It is. I never said it wasn’t.” The furrowed brows on Cordelia’s face refused to relax, and Mr. Merkulov – should she call him Frodo? – exhaled. “Look, I know all of these interviews are scary and you’re probably wondering what they’re for, and I can’t betray the Queen’s confidence on why they’re happening in the first place, but you’re fine. Both you and your sister.”

“I can’t quite imagine my sister and Charles Prentiss getting along to overthrow the Queen and the Light Side, no.”

“Your sister is a tad too young for his tastes, I think. I know for a fact he prefers brunettes.”

“Does he? I thought Auntie Dommi had black hair.”

“She does,” Frodo replied. Cordelia knew that there was something he was omitting, but she cared far too little about a Dark Army wizard’s love life to ask. “I must have seemed cold to you earlier when I told you that your Occlumency needed work because in all fairness, your Occlumency is good by any layman’s standards, but Dagareth  _ did  _ manage to get his hands on your grandmother and murder her, so – “

“Ice cold, actually. But I know. I get it.” Cordelia didn’t remember her grandmother well, but she definitely remembered liking her. “You just want to make sure that we have as large of a chance as surviving as possible if the time comes.” She gave her mentor a wry smile. “If that’s the case, I hope Prentiss sticks around for a bit because things have been in our favour ever since he came. I thought he was meant to be an idiot.”

Frodo chuckled, “He is, but not for the reasons you think he is. What are you doing, worrying about the fate of a forty-year-old man? Isn’t he a bit too old for you? Your parents would be interrogating you if they think you hold a torch for him.”

Shuddering, Cordelia shook her head. “No. I just think that he’s a lot less idiotic than he seems. I can’t imagine that a stupid person can survive in Dark Army territory for twenty minutes, let alone twenty years.” She pursed her lips in thought before asking, “Do you think we’re underestimating him, Mr. Merkulov? I feel like we’re missing something, a piece of the jigsaw puzzle, maybe, and it’s been bugging me.”

“You’re not the only one that feels that way,” Frodo concurred, his mind clearly elsewhere. “I’m convinced that there’s something about the Dark Army territory he’s refusing to tell us, but whether it’s his own demons or something a lot less personal remains unclear, and he would never tell me such important information. That’s up to the Queen.” He took a look at the clock. “I must be off. The next interview is in an hour.”

“Fair,” Cordelia smiled, “bye, Mr. Merkulov.”

“Goodbye, Cordelia.”

* * *

_06.27 November 13_ _th_ _, Year 20:_ _16ème arrondissement, Paris, France_

Taden knew that he was a half-decent dueller considering the gruelling training his wife put him through during their honeymoon, but unlike her, his magic reserves tend to run out reasonably quickly. He’d noticed that in battle and in training and no matter what potions he took or what regimen he was on, even if he was an effective soldier his stamina was practically zero.

It was a surprise that he was still alive and kicking, to be honest.

Borisov, despite his low standing in the Dark Army hierarchy, was definitely no slouch. Taden shouldn’t be surprised that the Army had increased their recruiting standards in their over twenty years of existence, but he really was. There were plenty of people in support of the Dark – Daggerbutt, but to actually join him was to give up one’s family, one’s possessions, one’s wealth. Merlin knew that if it was  _ easy  _ to join the Dark Army his father and uncles would’ve done so years ago, and he probably would have too.

_ Well, to be fair, _ he thought, dodging yet another Avada,  _ they had always been cowards. _

“Do you only know three spells, Borisov?” Taden yelled, non-verbally casting a Protego as more green air sliced through the air. “I’m pretty sure we went to the same school, and I remember more than three spells from first year alone – “

“Shut up, traitor!” The break in spell-casting was enough for Taden to regain some energy, and he ducked into the fireplace. “I see your potential there as a dueller, Wells. You could have done so much more if you had gone to service the Dark Lord – “

“ – his ideas are ridiculous. I’m pretty sure he saw most of what Voldemort did in Britain and simply copy pasted whatever he did. I mean, the whole Dark Lord thing is a bit overdone at this point.” The blond cast a Disarming Spell, which was effective against his slowly seething opponent. “Though I have to admit that holding most of Eastern Europe for about twenty years was a nice touch.”

“At least he has power, wealth and knowledge beyond your imagination!”

“For someone who has so-called infinite wealth, he certainly knows fuck all about the Muggle scientific method. There’s a  _ reason  _ it is so widely regarded as one of their most important discoveries.”

“Don’t you dare speak of such filth! Even their existence alone is not worthy of hearing about. Where I’m from, they no longer exist. No more dirt can haunt this earth, locking us out of the existence we so desire and deserve.”

Merlin, he sounded so much like his father Taden swore they were twins _. _

“You might think that, Borisov, but they had weapons more powerful than any spell. I heard they used bombs to kill thousands of people at once. Does the job well enough. And if you ever wander into any of our bases, our Interrogators would love to give you a first-hand experience into the art of Muggle torture. I think you’d enjoy it, personally.”

Borisov had pretty much given up on non-verbals at this point, shrieking the Unforgivables with the grace and aim of a toddler in tantrum. Good news was that Taden had substantially more time. Bad news was that the spells was powerful and the breaks in between spells were simply not enough to sustain protective shields of that strength. Twenty to thirty curses in, the Scientist could feel his strength slipping.

“How dare you disgrace the Dark Lord like that!” Borisov yelled, his face bright red and boiling. “No one insults the Dark Lord, for he has held most of Europe under his grip for over two decades! It is my honour to be his own  _ personal servant. _ Has your precious Light Queen done the same?”

“Yes she has, and she didn’t have to kill as many people because people actually  _ liked her.” _

Had this been from a completely different angle, Taden would have been laughing so hard he had stitches. Their banter gave him time to think, and he jumped out of the fireplace and took to his new hiding place behind a conveniently placed coffee table. To his relief, Borisov didn’t just think of Reducto-ing the object, instead striking alternate Crucios and Imperios until oblivion.

Clearly not a man to think strategically under high pressure, Borisov was dangerous. Where he clearly lacked in finesse he made up for in power. There was an easy solution to that strategy, and that was to wait it out, but judging from the state the coffee table was in, Taden would be dead before the other man got tired.

The blond sent a Stunning spell flying directly at the man, missing his shoulder by an inch. He cursed himself as Borisov continued to cast spells in his direction. The door still ajar, Taden chose that moment to sprint of the room, his opponent hot on his heels as he cast the Killing Curse. From his peripheral vision, he could see Ivanovich on the ground, Dylan tying him to various objects in the room. Julian was holding a roll of Muggle duct tape, taping the man’s mouth shut. Ondrea and Alaina took notice of the blond’s chase, and they grabbed their wands and came after the two men.

Unfortunately, Borisov also noticed the both of them and cast a Crucio in Alaina’s direction. Instead of dodging, she dove, sliding on the carpet with one leg outstretched and the other bent until she slowed to a stop. Within range of her opponent, she kicked him as he was in the middle of an Avada Kedavra, toppling him and letting the spell ricochet off the walls.

“Nice one!” Taden exclaimed, his joy morphing very quickly to acute fear when he saw Borisov attack the young woman. He then took this opportunity to Stun the man from behind, Alaina shrieking as he fell to the ground.

Ondrea took the reins from there and picked Borisov up, slinging him on her shoulder. “I hope there’s only the two of them because if there’s going to be yet another display like that, I’m not going to forgive you, Taden. No offence.”

“None taken,” the blond smirked, asking the older woman to stop so he can magically bind his captive’s hands with rope. Alaina scrambled to catch up with the both of them, the Dark Army wizard’s wand in her hand. “We really should have thought of people trying to attack Dylan and installed blood wards on this place. But we thought that this, being Paris…” He took a deep breath. “We were too lax with security and today we’ve paid the price.” Turning to Alaina, he asked, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” she nodded delightedly, if only there was no other word for the expression on her face, “that was the most action I’ve ever seen first-hand, and that was fun! Wasn’t it, Maman?”

“It was fun, but if you think you’re going to fight in any battles, you’re sorely mistaken,” Ondrea chided, though there was still a small smile on her face, “though of course, we’ll be happy to provide any assistance should the time arise, combat aside.”

“I think your Healer training would come in very handy,” Taden said, thinking of Healer O’Malley, “we only have a couple of proper Healers in Headquarters and they’ve always taken combative roles in battle. Perhaps…”

“We’ll consider it.” Ondrea could hear Borisov groan as if to wake, and Alaina Stunned him again. At the action, she gave a gleeful chuckle, and her mother and Taden exchanged confused looks.

Throwing Borisov on the floor, Ondrea embraced her husband once everyone was in the same room. Alaina observed their two captives with wide eyes, taking a camera out of her satchel and taking a photograph of them ‘just in case’. Dylan and Jakob were talking about some old war memories that Taden really cared about, leaving him to survey the rest of the flat.

Overall, the damage done to the flat was visible, but it could be easily repaired. The blond took it upon himself to repair as much of the damage as he could with magic, and though there were still large chunks of debris by the time he was done the first time, the flat was still habitable. He was thankful that at least the bathroom and at least one of the bedrooms was left untouched by the altercation.

After washing his face and relieving himself, Taden returned to the room to see both captives slipping back into consciousness. While Ivanovich chose to struggle quite visibly with his ropes, Borisov took a lazier, more calculated approach. Both made the Scientist feel uneasy, and he had a sudden need to adjust his sleeves every couple of seconds.

“Well, you got us,” Borisov drawled, “what do you want?”

At his words, Dylan turned around to face him. The Head Scientist sauntered over, holding the man’s chin in his palm. “I’d say wanting you to leave would be the most concise answer,” he replied coolly. “The real question is what do  _ you  _ want?”

“We want you to stop publishing those lies you’ve sent all over Europe.” Borisov gleamed his teeth at Taden. The blond swore that he could feel a shiver run up his spine. “Oh, and we would like to tell Mr. Wells here some pleasant news. Your cousin passed away last month. Rather tragic incident, if I do say so myself.”

Julian scoffed as Dylan let go of Borisov’s chin, returning back to his position beside Jakob, “Why should we believe you? You’re a man sent from Dagareth himself, as you so loudly proclaimed. You could be lying for all we know.”

“Why would I lie about Victoria Wells’s death?” Turning to Taden, he continued to speak. “She was to be mine, dear Vicky was. So beautiful, so kind, such an innocent little flower. Had things gone differently, she would be with child now.  _ My  _ child.” The blond’s expression remained stony, and Borisov saw it fit to continue. “But alas, she was far too fond of her traitorous cousin even though they haven’t spoken a word in the last four years.”

_ That wasn’t completely true,  _ Taden thought, but there was no need for the villain to know.

“When her father accepted my hand in marriage, she refused to associate with me in any shape or form. On chaperoned dates, she would look to the stars and asked if I could ever be as pretty as them. She rejected my compliments. All of the owls I sent her she replied with only them torn up into shreds.”

Jakob groaned, “So you’re telling me that you’re here to do whatever job Daggerbutt told you to do but also to avenge someone who wouldn’t love you back?” He snorted. “Merlin, Dylan, and you said me running after the de Venin twins was too much.”

“It was,” Dylan said in amusement.

Borisov growled at Taden, whose attention was now gripped by the wall, “Oh, when the wedding day came and it was time… she had been a fighter, my Victoria. It was sad to see her so bloody, so much red on that floor – “

“What did you say?” the blond said coldly, whipping his wand out as he walked towards the man. His opponent had no answer but a smug smile on his face. “What the fuck did you say, Borisov? Too  _ cowardly  _ to repeat it in front of me?”

“Oh no, not at  _ all  _ Mr. Wells. It was just that your cousin had never looked as beautiful as she did right before she died.”

The blond wasted no time before throwing a Crucio at the man. The man’s mangled screams began to fill the room, and as Alaina’s face scrunched up in disgust the blond still remained expressionless. Ivanovich had stopped struggling in his guards, his focus fixed on his teammate. An eternity passed before Taden stopped, his chest heaving.

“My cousin is a million times the person you were, you are, you will be,” he said, pointing his wand straight into the man’s chest.  _ “Avada Kedavra.” _

The ghost of remorse flooded Taden’s body as he saw his opponent’s soul rush out of him.

* * *

_19.32 November 9_ _th_ _, Year 20:_ _Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters_

“Thank you for your time, Elizabeta. You would hold up well enough in a Dark Army lair.”

The Box closed behind her, and Ellie made her way down the snakelike corridor to Meeting Room #45 – her and Alex’s semi-secret meeting place. They had a tradition of booking out that room every several weeks and sat there doing whatever they pleased. Only their mother knew about this and for once knew better than to barge in on their meetings, and for that the young Healer trainee was eternally grateful.

Alex was already there when Ellie entered, reading a torn copy of  _ All The Light We Cannot See.  _ He looked up, grinning as she walked towards him and closed the book shut. “How was the ‘interview’?” he asked, looking slightly smug.

“I think I passed whatever it is they wanted me to pass,” she said nonchalantly, leaning on her brother’s shoulder. “And when’s yours again?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Ellie opened her mouth, but her brother placed a finger on her lips. “I think I can prepare for it by myself, thanks.”

“Aren’t you cocky?” she teased, picking up the book her brother had been reading. She ran her fingers over the cover. “Anyway, how’s Ineesa?”

“You know how she is. She’s fine; you saw her at dinner – “

“No, Alex. I mean  _ how’s Ineesa?” _

It took Alex all of his willpower not to tickle his sister as she waggled her eyebrows at him. “She’s fine, honestly. We’re not going to go any further, considering she doesn’t even  _ do  _ relationships.” He raised his eyebrows when his sister tilted her head. “I’m fine with that, sis. I’m serious.”

Ellie deadpanned, “Thank Nimue. I was wondering whether you’d actually have romantic relations with anyone after Vanka considering how  _ whipped  _ you were for her towards the end. I was getting worried for a second that you would die a  _ monk. _ ”

“It’s not romantic, it’s purely sexual, and yes, there’s a difference.” Brushing one of his sister’s braids away from her eyes, he asked, “Speaking of how people are, you still haven’t told me what happened during the battle that’s got you all shaken up.”

Pouting at the movie selection, Ellie took a couple of DVDs off the shelf and asked, “What movie do you wanna watch, Alex? I’m feeling Wonder Woman or Captain America today – I don’t know, something superhero-related – “

_ “Ellie,  _ you can’t avoid the question forever. One might get the idea that maybe you have something to hide.”

“I’m not collaborating with  _ Charles Prentiss,  _ if that’s what you’re thinking.”

_ “Please  _ don’t tell me that you’re actually believing anything Cordelia Bellamy is saying.”

“Well someone has to!” she exclaimed, “because so many impossible things are happening and we don’t know why. We’re winning battles, Dylan and Taden actually succeeded in one of their missions, and Jarlan went after me when we were in Helsinki.  _ Me.  _ A relatively useless, stupid  _ nobody.  _ I try and get over him and then all of a sudden he has to be the  _ gallant bad boy  _ he is and – “

“That was the biggest oxymoron I’ve ever heard, but okay, I get it,” Alex interrupted, placing an arm around his sister. She leaned into his embrace, her head burrowing into his chest. “If you don’t want to talk about it anymore, we can go watch Wonder Woman, because it’s the best Marvel movie ever made. Sound good?” She bobbed her head. Alex placed the DVD in the television and the two of them began watching the movie.

Diana had just left Thermyscira when Ellie paused the movie and turned to her brother. “You don’t think I’m an awful human being for still having feelings for Jarlan, right?”

“Of course not,” Alex replied, kissing his sister gently on the forehead, “I still have feelings for Vanka and you don’t yell at me for it.”

Ellie gave her brother a wan smile. “Do you think you’ll ever get over her?”

“Vanka?” he questioned. She nodded, eyes flickering down onto the floor. “Well, not completely, no. She was my first for… a lot of things, and I’ll always feel  _ something  _ for her. I think she feels the same way.” He frowned. “You know I’m just going to say – “

“ – it’s a danger, I know, but I’m not going to let it cloud my judgment.” Ellie looked up at him, expectant. “The same way you two never let your feelings get in the way.” She pressed play, and Diana’s journey to World War One continued.

Once the movie ended, Alex stretched his arms and Ellie promptly stood up, searching the room for cookies. She found a surprisingly full tin, taking a chocolate chip cookie and offering Alex one. He accepted. They both quietly sat, trying not to devour their cookies as quickly as possible. Once they were done, she grinned at her brother, who grinned back.

They burst into peals of laughter.

“What was that about?” Ellie asked, still giggling.

“I don’t know,” Alex replied. He heaved as he attempted to get his laughter under control, but he found it impossible to do so. Taking another chocolate chip cookie, he ate it as his sister continued to grin uncontrollably, waves of uncontrolled amusement dotting the warm silence that engulfed him.

* * *

_23.49 November 9_ _th_ _, Year 20:_ _Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters – Bedroom #81_

At the foot of the bed, Kait placed her head on Frodo’s shins, counting the stars that were painted on the ceiling. It was from the night of their wedding nearly two decades ago, and Merlin knew what possessed her from ravishing her husband – her favourite activity – on her wedding night than to pick up a brush and paint whatever was in the sky tonight.

Staring up at it every night never got old for her because in all the time she had it, she never managed to get every constellation, every star, every coordinate right. To be fair, the Hrabrost never possessed an affinity or penchant for Astronomy: it seemed a tad useless to know every single star in the world in the middle of a war when one of her best friends was an Uchitel and another was Alora Veer.

It was Frodo that taught her to look at the stars –  _ really  _ look – for the first time. That first night had been sometime in their sixth year if Kait remembered correctly, way back when Lena was a little less paranoid, Rhys a little less cautious, Anya a little more present. They’d stared up at the stars, Frodo and her, and they actually  _ talked.  _ Not just the curt, kiss-with-a-fist fashion that they had become accustomed to. In short bursts, she’d said things about who she was, what she’d done, the person she wanted to become but never could be. Even Alora had never heard her speak so much before.

Though Kait could never regret her marriage to Frodo, some parts of her still ache. Dating him, getting pregnant, and last but not least, marrying him all within the span of over twenty-three months had been a rollercoaster only possible in the birth and growth of an all-encompassing war that made everything after it so much more difficult. Assuming of course, there would be an after, at the rate things were going.

The Interrogator wasn’t fond of admitting that she worried about things, especially her friends and family, but of course she did. She worried about Nick and Ineesa when they disappeared during Helsinki, about how Cordelia seemed to be believing in all the wrong things, about Anya and Lora and Rhys, about how Lena’s mental health was going down the pan and no matter who or what tried to tell her to go get help, the blonde refused to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

Silver and gold dots on the ceiling caught Kait’s eye, pulling her out of her reverie. For the first time that night, she tried naming them all. As she did, she stood from the bed and moved to the other side, tucking herself beneath the sheets. Frodo, she realised, was rather sensitive to blood pooling in his legs, as she discovered rather unsavourily during battle.

For the first time, Kait managed to get all of the details right.


	20. 4E - November 2080 + August - October 2073

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise. i live.

_11.38 November 13_ _th_ _, Year 20:_ _16ème arrondissement, Paris, France_

“About fucking time you got here!” Jakob yelled, “what took you so long?”

Johanna snorted as she put the car keys on the living room table. “Magda had to go potty and Beatrice wouldn’t start.”

“What do you mean, Beatrice wouldn’t start? She’s only a couple of decades old!”

“And she’s as tired of you as I am,” Magda cut in. The newly-arrived women both took turns inspecting the apartment, raising eyebrows as they exchanged glances. “You said that this was an emergency, yet I don’t see the problem.” She wrinkled her nose, “Unless you’re talking about the mess. You wouldn’t take us for a pair of cleaners, would you, Jakob?”

The eldest von Bergen pointed his sisters away from the living room towards the master bedroom. “That’s not what you’re here for. Follow me.”

When the trio arrived, a lot of things remained the same as before. Taden was still vacantly gazing into the eyes of a dead man, his plate of food left untouched. Ivanovich had given up on breaking free from his ropes and was now snoring in deep slumber. The sisters shared another look, and in mild exasperation, Johanna remarked, “Oh, so you needed us to help you bury a body. Does it always have to be so  _ tedious _ ? Why can’t you invite us for something fun, like an interrogation or something?”

“Nice to see you too,” Julian deadpanned. “Want a bite? Ondrea and Alaina have made plenty to spare.”

“That would be nice,” Johanna replied, giving the man a curt nod. Magda found the plate on the floor, cast a Warming Charm on it, and began consuming its contents. Her sister snickered at her, shaking her head.

Alaina appeared at the door not a moment later, holding a plate full of confit byaldi and some fried plantain. “Here you go!” she grinned, passing the plate to Johanna. “Did you guys get here from Lyon?”

“Yes,” Magda said, “that was why we took our sorry time getting here. Add a confusing highway system and a century old car – “

“Stop blaming Beatrice, for fuck’s sake.“

“And we took a while to get here,” Johanna said, “the food is delicious, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Ondrea said, entering the room and pulling her husband into an embrace. “The plantain is probably the last one we’re going to have for a couple of months until the next shipment comes in, so I hope I did it justice.”

Johanna twirled a lock of her hair and paid her attention to the blond that had not moved since their arrival. “Is it like him to be so rude to new company?”

Dylan shook his head, offering the woman a death glare. “He just discovered his only decent cousin died in rather… unsavoury circumstances. I think he deserves a little bit of time to grieve.”

Magda nodded firmly, her voice quivering as she uttered her condolences. “You… we should probably do something about the body then. We should move him, at the very least.” She began approaching him before Taden turned around, restraining her.

“He doesn’t deserve a burial.” His voice did not crack, though it was dry and itching for nourishment. “He  _ hurt  _ her. He  _ killed  _ her. He does not deserve the privilege of being treated like a human being.” Lifting his wand, the blond non-verbally Reductoed the man, until all that was left in his place was a pile of burning dust. He let it burn, letting the flames consume what was remained of him until they began licking the walls. A jet of water ended the poignant silence that filled the room.

Johanna mumbled something to her brother, but it only earned her a slap on the shoulder from her sister. The woman rolled her eyes, trying not to smile at the lack of body she had to move.

Dylan came forward to speak to his protégé, and the words they exchanged were far too hushed and quiet for any of them to understand. (Though the von Bergen women understood Russian, Middle German had always been their preferred tongue as Lena Edmunds herself knew it well, and as a result did not understand the conversation as much as they should have. Only Julian had any tangible knowledge of Russian so far as anyone knew, and if Ondrea knew any she didn’t make it known.) 

At the end of it, the two Scientists let themselves out of the door, Dylan’s arm around Taden’s shoulders. That left the von Bergens and Rousseaus with a sleeping werewolf.

“So who’s he meant to be?” Johanna asked, turning to her brother.

“Someone we should’ve gotten rid of a long time ago, in all fairness,” he mumbled, “but with Taden already murdering both of them, I think that killing him too would be unwise.”

“Do we get to – “

_ “No,  _ Johanna. We’re not Headquarters, so we’re not going to torture him. Besides, I think he’s one of Daggerbutt’s newest recruits. That should be torture enough.” Jakob shifted his focus to Julian and Ondrea. “I feel it both necessary and unnecessary to find the true purpose of their visit. What’s your opinion?”

There was a pause that lasted for a minute before Julian gave his opinion. “I am in favour of questioning Ivanovich. He might not know much, but from what we’ve observed he does seem to be the sort that caves quickly enough for us to know the information we need by the end of the day.”

“I agree,” Ondrea said firmly. “I need to know  _ how  _ they got this address. Speaking of, we need to move. It’s not safe here.”

“That can be arranged,” Jakob replied swiftly, “there are many von Bergen properties across the city. Just pick an arrondissement and we’ll discuss options. I know you don’t like depending on us, but it’s the least we can do.” He then strode over to the sleeping werewolf and chose to attack him with doves. The man was yelling as he tried to get the birds to stop pecking him – only to find that he could not.

“Get them off me, you piece of shit!” Ivanovich growled.

In response, Jakob snorted. “Do you really think that after attacking us in our own home, we’d listen to anything you say?” He slapped the man, the birds flying out of the open window. “Tough luck, pal. Perhaps you’d like to tell us  _ how  _ you found our humble little abode in the first place?”

“It was written all over your pamphlets.”

Snickering, Jakob shook his head. “No. The address written on the pamphlets are for the printing press. Anyone familiar with Parisian geography would know that that would be underground.” He took the man’s chin and stroked it in a display of faux intimacy that sent chills up Julian’s spine. “If you had attacked that, I would’ve understood. But finding the address of our  _ home  _ takes some  _ proper  _ espionage which I don’t think you have the skills fore.”

“Well I’m a lot smarter than you, filthy – “

Jakob pressed his wand against Ivanovich’s lips, and the werewolf spat on it. “Who’s acting filthy now?” he asked. “Again, how did you find our house?”

“W – We followed you.”

“Are you saying your Apparition is so good it’s  _ silent?” _

“Yes.”

Ivanovich’s gaze was trying to remain as stony as possible, and that only made Johanna’s cackle grow in volume. “Everyone knows that silent Apparition is practically impossible,” she said, clutching her sides. “Both sides can’t seem to quite get it right.”

“Well, the Dark Lord has perfected it and has been teaching it to his supporters.”

“Tsk tsk tsk.” Jakob shook his head, wagging his finger and sheathing his wand. “Tell me how on earth taking yourself from space and transporting yourself to another space in milliseconds is meant to be  _ silence.  _ You’re ripping atoms and molecules apart. Surely you’ve heard of nuclear fusion. Please tell me you don’t think they’re silent.”

Johanna skipped over to the werewolf, tilting her head as if to observe him. “No werewolf could ever be so silly as to believe in that, surely?”

“Perhaps if they’re so far up the Dark Lord’s arse – “

“ – they can’t even think for themselves! How depressing!”

“No surprise, really. Treated like dirt just for being who they are. So much so that if they join his ranks, they think they’re a god.”

“Fuck off, von Bergen. I’ll tell you.” Ivanovich’s face clearly contorted in pain as he continued to speak. “Someone told us. Some man in the market a few streets down told us you were around here. And we got lucky.”

Jakob and Johanna exchanged glances. “Looks like we have another body to bury,” she pouted, and behind her, Magda rolled her eyes and raised her arms in surrender.

Her brother brushed the hair out of Ivanovich’s face. “I knew it wouldn’t take much for you to cave, you spineless excuse for a soldier.” He lifted his wand out of its sheath and pressed it against the man’s temple. “Obliviate.”

* * *

_06.45 November 10_ _th_ _, Year 20:_ _Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters_

“Do you have any other questions?” Frodo asked, lifting his head from his notepad.

Vanka shook her head. After he let her take her leave, she didn’t dare show any sign of relief until the door shut behind her.

She didn’t like admitting it, but she’d grown restless and slightly cranky during her husband’s absence. Taden had been gone for months and she hadn’t heard so much as a wink from him. Aunt Lora, to her surprise, echoed her sentiments when it came to the two men. The two of them had shared a cup of tea over their worries, mostly telling each other that France is safe, Paris is safe, their men are safe.

“I’ll call Dylan in a couple of days,” Lora had said. She took a sip of her tea and the way she the cup thumped onto the saucer made Vanka tense. “Lena won’t deny me that considering she told me to do it.”

“No,” the blonde chorused. “No she wouldn’t.”

She’d thought for a long time that the Seven Devils were seven individuals who happened to be allies and friends in school. It was only when she was older – after Paris – where she saw that despite Anya’s obvious seventh wheeling, they all relied on each other. She saw how everyone looked to Frodo and Anya whenever their emotions got bad, how the men supported each other in battle without doubt, the way Kait and Lena talked longingly about their youth (she never got the specifics, but she was sure that there was something going on there). To Vanka, they looked very much like a co-dependent polyamorous relationship.

Or at least, she thought it was. But then she got married. Even with Lena and Ellie she could handle being away from them for long periods of time – though she hadn’t a chance to test that theory yet, nor does she particularly want to. Her husband had grown on her skin, embedded himself within it, and as much as she could say the addition was unwelcome if he hadn’t done so everyone would question why she’d ever married the man.

Sometimes, she’d say she loves him and that was it. Others, the word was spat out her tongue, not without a bitter aftertaste. Others still, the rarest and truest of times, when her back was slick with sweat and she was on the brink of ecstasy, she’d cry it out, her fingers digging into his shoulder. She’d stare at the bright red marks afterwards and tried to refrain from smiling.

Ineesa greeted her in the Dining Hall, a half-eaten plate in front of her. Today’s breakfast was porridge, bratwurst with slices of bread. So, nothing special.

“How was it?” Ineesa bounced with anticipation, her hair tied back into a simple ponytail.

With a wave of her wand, Vanka got herself a plate of food and sat opposite her friend, whose hair was now a pretty shade of cerulean. “It wasn’t shitty. That’s probably because I know I wasn’t the mole. You had yours last night, right?”

Ineesa hummed in assent through a mouthful of porridge. She didn’t go any further, and for that, Vanka was relieved. The rainbow headed girl had been a constant, never quite outgrowing her penchant for having all the colours of the rainbow in her hair at once, inheriting her aunt’s love for explosions, and always down to fuck. And she meant  _ always. _ It was exhausting.

After breakfast, Vanka made her way to the armoury. It was empty; the people who worked in this department had the common trait of liking their beauty sleep. She started by first checking the number of bullets they had per calibre and began replicating – not like anyone ever used them on the battlefield, but there you go – updating the inventory as she did so. As she filed away the newly made bullets, she had to search the back of the vault to find some space. She tripped on something she thought she’d never see again, and as she inspected it, a smile slithered itself into her features.

It was a crossbow, made out of maple close to the outskirts of the lair. The bow was still intact, though she knew that it would be slightly thin from years of wear and tear. The wood had aged – awfully, from being in the back of a vault – but she still remembered the rollercoaster that came with it. Too many times did she have to run to the Infirmary because of this weapon, so outdated and ineffective yet infinitely glorious when one figured out how to use it.

Vanka took it and left the armoury in order to find Alex’s room. It was only several rooms down from her old one – now occupied by one of Grandma Ilyina’s granddaughters, Victoria – and though she wasn’t certain that he would be up, she knocked on his door anyway.

The door creaked open, and the blonde wasn’t surprised to find her ex looking slightly annoyed and scruffy during this time of day. He still managed a grin at her, only sounding a tiny bit annoyed when he asked her what she was doing on his doorstep.

“Look what I found!” she whispered, her blue eyes holding all the joy of a five-year-old opening presents on Christmas Day. She handed him the crossbow, and his expression of mild amusement turned into one of glee when he realised what it was.

“Sweet Mer – how on earth did you find it?” he asked, beckoning her inside.

Shrugging, Vanka shut the door behind her as they walked to his bed. “I was just doing inventory in the armoury and I thought you’d appreciate a little bonding with an old pal of yours.”

They sat down, Alex still surveying his old friend. He chuckled and gave her a bear hug that managed not to smother her. She didn’t hesitate to wrap hers around him, letting the warm familiarity of his arms spread gingerly across her back. Once they let go, he said, “Thanks, Vanka. I’m not sure what to do with it, but I’m glad I have it back.”

“No worries,” the blonde replied, crossing her legs, “well, you could frame it on the wall for the whole world to see. Or donate it to Anya’s bookshop.”

“Or you could fix it up and I can learn how to use it again,” Alex countered, raising a brow. The bow now rested on his bed between the two adults. “You shouldn’t throw things away unless you really have to.”

“You’re right,” Vanka acquiesced. They had no use for wasted weapons. “I’m pretty I can give this a quick fix. I’m not letting you draw with something that worn.” She stood up from her seat, grabbed the bow, and began her way to her place of work. Alex was quick on her heels, slamming the door behind him just as she left.

A right and a left and a down the stairs later, Vanka returned to her place of work, using her wand to Summon a string and a stringer. She turned to her ex to see his reaction, and she could feel the amazement radiate off him; he hadn’t been here in a while, and she and Ineesa managed to wrangle Lena for an upgrade. “I hope you’re okay with this new string,” Vanka commented, trying to bring him out of his reverie. “It has a higher ultimate tensile strength so it should hold up for ages even when you forget to use it.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Alex replied, nodding even though his eyes were still transfixed onto the decoration. Rolling her eyes, Vanka went straight to her workbench, putting the bow on safety. She attached the stringer to the nocks and cocked the crossbow with it, taking great care to remove the bowstring.

As she fired the bow, Alex jumped, childish delight lining his features. That earned him a small snort from the blonde, who took the stringer from the ground and began attaching the new string to it.

Once she’d attached the string, removed the stringer and gave the bow a bit of a polish, Vanka inspected her work and found it to be quite satisfactory. Alex, who had now taken to sitting impatiently close to her, immediately stood up when she did and requested that he try it.

“Stop being a fucking kid, Alex. Let me put wax on it first,” she said, swatting his wrist away. She Summoned a bar of beeswax to her and worked it onto the string. Once she did so, she passed it into Alex’s unsteady, trembling hands.

The moment he took his old friend, however, all of the uncertainty disappeared. Vanka moved swiftly away from its path as Alex drew it back. She didn’t realise that she’d been holding her breath until he fired, and everything was as it should be.

“Do you think Lena will let me bring this into battle?” the raven-haired boy asked. The blonde only shrugged in response.

* * *

_August 19_ _th_ _, Year 13:_ _Lumen de Lucerna_

_ Nessie thrust a piece of crumpled paper at her two friends. “Alex, Vanka, if you two can get any more sickening, please get a room.” _

_ Ellie chuckled, patting her grumpy friend on the shoulder. “Come on, Nessie, let those two have their moment.” _

_ “Well their moment has gone on long enough and they’re being disgusting,” Nessie protested, groaning when Alex bent down to kiss Vanka on the forehead. Her hair had chosen to take on a strawberry flavour that month, and Ellie complimented on how well it went with her skin. That took the girl’s concentration off her friends as she began chattering about how she should dye her hair rainbow next June. _

_ The couple in question were currently holding hands, thumbs twiddling as they sat there and observed each other. It was one of the many things that Vanka  _ liked  _ about Alex: he didn’t push her to talk, and he didn’t look at her piteously during Father’s or Mother’s Day. He understood. _

_ She spent quite a few nights wondering what he liked about her, because she couldn’t think of anything particularly redeeming. She was still very much a little girl and he was surrounded by so many pretty girls it was a wonder he looked at her at all. She got mad at him all the time and didn’t find him as funny as everyone else did. She was also an awful dueller compared to him, aside from the fact that she can throw one hell of a curse if need be, as evidenced numerous times. _

_ In essence, she was a typhoon, and he was an oasis, and she didn’t know if she deserved him. _

_ Vanka could feel her Äiti observe her from across the hall, stern eyes transfixed on where Alex put his hands on her niece. She wondered if it pained her to see her so happy when the love of her life was dead. _

_ As if reading her thoughts, Alex asked, “What are you thinking about?” _

_ Vanka shrugged her shoulders, “Nothing in particular, really.” Lying to him was too easy, but she wished it wasn’t. On the other hand, he didn’t deserve to hear about the things she thought about. “How about you?” _

_ “Just wondering how long it’ll be before your äiti stop staring at us as if we’ve committed murder every time she sees us,” Alex grumbled, blinking for a second before backtracking. “Okay, no, I mean – “ _

_ Giggling, Vanka replied, “I know what you mean.” She leaned over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I really like you, Alex.” _

_ In feigned relief, her boyfriend exhaled loudly, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “Oh thank Merlin, I was getting worried there.” _

_ Narrowing her eyes at him, Vanka surveyed the hall to ensure that Lena had left. Once she was very sure she had, she pressed her lips onto his. _

_ His hand immediately pulled her closer to him, and she thought that it felt rather nice. _

* * *

 

_ October 14 _ _ th _ _ , Year 13: Docentribis Institute _

_ Despite the fact that the same affectionate attitude didn’t translate to school, Donnica still found a way of riling her up about it. The girl had the annoying habit of following her all over school, and if she had her wish probably right through the Portkey too. However, the Dark Lady and the Light Queen had seen to it that the school provided ample protection against duels starting or students getting randomly injured this academic year, which meant that there was a lot more surveillance at school nowadays. _

_ Vanka wished she could say that these new changes were welcome, but she could feel something within her change. Maybe it was because of her relationship that made the flame within her go from its surging blaze to a warm campfire. She’d let someone come close, and even after enduring all the smoke and soot they still wanted to stay. Maybe it was that she’d grown out of fighting, or maybe it was hormones. Probably hormones. _

_ About the only thing that remained the same was that her training continued despite these new restrictions. The Bellamy twins didn’t lag as far behind as they did, though what they lacked for in power and general street smarts they made up for with ruthless, calculating spellwork. Nessie was still slightly obsessed with blowing things up. Alex, being the resident academic, often took time to look through some old German and Russian spells and practiced them. He’d also taken a liking to the crossbow in the armoury, and though the rebound always resulted in a dislocated shoulder, his mother would fix him up, no questions asked. “At least I’m doing it in controlled conditions,” was his answer when Vanka asked him about the matter, and she wasn’t going to pry. _

_ And so it was that day, right before an hour of training, that Donnica found her alone, trying to make headway on one of the German spells that Alex found. Blood magic, he’d said in unadulterated wonder, reminding her of the days when her aunt still had the time to read. She’d pricked her finger, said the incantation, and used her wand movements to develop protective armour around her when she saw a red jet of light lance through the air and ricochet off her chest and onto the ceiling, where it left a thundering crack and some pieces of concreted hailed onto the floor, breaking that too. _

_ A flare tickled her ribs. Vanka swore that she had never felt more powerful in her life. _

_ She looked up, rolling her eyes in mock dismissal at her enemy. “Resorting to sneak attacks now, Lestrange? I thought that was a little below your level.” _

_ “You’re a little below my level,” Donnica retorted, pocketing her wand, “yet here I am, dealing with you.” _

_ Vanka rolled her eyes, doing the same with hers. It was strange how a détente came so naturally to them these days. “Alex thinks you’re obsessed with me. I can see that his assumption wasn’t completely groundless.” _

_ Folding her arms, Donnica scoffed. “I’m not obsessed with you. I just think you feel it too.” _

_ “Feel what?” _

_ “Cold.” _

_ At this, Vanka emitted a hollow laugh. “I thought you’re meant to be Russian. Impervious to the cold and all. Besides, it’s only mid-October. What do you mean you feel cold?” _

_ Donnica’s arms remained glued to her sides, though her elbows began to twitch. “I don’t mean that kind of cold, you filth. I mean inside you, like your soul, and stuff.” _

_ Dear Nimue, Vanka wished her friends were here to hear this. “Fucking hell, Lestrange. Have you gone soft? My soul, going cold? Are you quite alright? I thought Divination was way out of your league.” _

_ “Doesn’t take a Seer to know that we are one and the same. We run on fire, on spars and battles. We run on war.” Donnica’s eyes glimmered of something sinister, and Vanka tried her best not to flinch. “That’s what fuels us. It makes us feel something. You can’t tell me that nothing’s changed ever since our mothers called ceasefire on school grounds.” _

_ “What do you mean?” Vanka frowned, the lie sliding easily off her tongue. The question lingered: since when was it a lie? “I haven’t noticed anything.” _

_ “You lie.” Donnica was stepping closer towards her now, and Vanka did not dare step back. “Tell me you don’t feel like something in you has been dimmed or extinguished. That you didn’t feel something when you put that spell on yourself and watched mine literally bounce off yours. Something good.”  _

_ Thud. Another step. “Tell me you still feel human.”  _

_“I do.” Her reply was too quick, automatic. That was not a lie, though it looked and smelled and felt like one. “I feel human because I feel something. For example, I love my family. I’m sure even you can understand, Lestrange.”_  

 _The words were smooth as silk on her tongue, yet they could both hear the stutter behind them._  

_ “Yes.” Vanka was surprised that Donnica replied at all. “Of course I love my family. Only a weak man wouldn’t say so.” _

_ One of the professors walked past, eyeing the two, and quickly scuttled away. “You used to call me weak for feeling pain.” _

_“Pain is weakness, alright.” Donnica lifted her wand and Vanka wasted no time in unsheathing hers. A quick scan of the corridors indicated nobody was nearby. “Pain is gain is bullshit. It’s a lot easier to gain when you feel nothing.” The Dark Heiress could hear the grunt in her opponent’s breath, and her lips curled into a malevolent Cheshire grin. “Now, Vorstenbach. Are you ready to play?”_  

_ “I was born ready.” _

_ There was a spark as the two girls raised their wands. It ignited when they cast their spells. _

* * *

 

_ October 19 _ _ th _ _ , Year 13: Lumen de Lucerna Headquarters _

_ “Alex, I told you. I’m alright.” _

_ The boy had been leaning over her bed ever since Vanka was discovered pretty much catatonic on the school floor. The Light Queen and the Dark Lady had lifted the restrictions on the school, so now almost everything went back to normal except both Donnica and Vanka were both suspended from a week. Considering Äiti grounded her anyway, that suited her just fine. _

_ “You say you’re alright, but you’re obviously not,” Alex said sagely, his voice brimming with the arrogance over knowledge one can only gain after living with someone in close quarters for over a decade. “Can you walk?” _

_ “I can walk. I just choose not to.” Vanka crossed her arms, indignant. She could barely make the trip from her bed to the bathroom, let alone all the way across Docentribis. “Don’t you have homework or research to do or something?” _

_ “You should know me better than that. I finished all my homework ages ago.”  He gave her arm a squeeze, pecking her forehead. “Besides, I finally figured out how to brew Dittany so we don’t have to steal anymore. Nessie and I are working on it.” _

_ The blonde tried her best to pretend that she wasn’t jealous. Nope. Not at all. “Nessie? How about Ellie? She’s the one that wants to play Healer.” _

_ “But Nessie’s brilliant!” He must’ve seen the slightly cross look on her face, because his tone changed immediately after. “What? You can’t deny that she’s good at potions.” That was true, Vanka conceded. “Ellie is too, but she’s been a bit too preoccupied with Jarlan to pay any attention. Anyway, we were sneaking around Mum’s library and we found a modified recipe that doesn’t call for too many ingredients but still does the job. It just requires an industrial amount of lacewing flies.” _

_ Chuckling, Vanka nodded, beckoning him to come over. “Thanks. And will someone get Ellie out of her Jarlan craze? That little crush of hers is going to get us killed!” _

_ “She’s probably taken up by the fact that it’s forbidden and alluring,” Alex reassured her. He sat next to her on the bed and pulled her close, and it was difficult not to succumb to his musky scent. “You know she’s a bit of a romantic.” _

_ “A bit,” she agreed, though she’d always thought that calling someone romantic was a kind way of calling them impractical. The blonde tilted her head and planted him a very chaste kiss on the lips. “You’re amazing. Those defensive spells helped things from becoming much worse.” _

_ Alex chuckled and gave her another, equally innocuous kiss. Even at fifteen, she could spot the wrinkles on his forehead grown from worry. “Always happy to help.” _

_ This was when Vanka cupped his cheek in her palm and captured his lips with hers, inhaling his scent and brushing her thumb across his smooth skin. He was so warm, so sweet. When they parted, they kept their foreheads stuck together, laughing even when Lena rolled her eyes at the both of them from outside the room. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Mel, Nia and Manda for being the people who helped me build the world & plot. Thank you to Rev & Danie for reading it before it was officially released to AO3. Thank you to all five of you for being my friends.


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